Wright or Wrong
by LisaDawn75
Summary: What would have happened if Luke had had a bit of help that he could count on? An old friend from his past comes back into his life and they work together to help Mei escape from the mess she's in.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Ever since I saw this movie, I have been obsessed with it. I need more of Luke's character! I wish they had delved more into his past, and I think it would be awesome if they made another one, especially a prequel to give us more of Luke's background. I've thrown my own O/C in here to make it a bit more interesting, so some of the bits of the movie might get moved around or changed. We'll see. I hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: All I own is a DVD of the movie **_**Safe**_**, which I watch over and over. And the good doctor is my own creation. I wish I owned Jason Statham, but if I did, I wouldn't be wasting my time on fanfic!**

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"So, what can I help you with?" Dr. Tatum Kennedy asked the young man on the examination table in front of her at the free clinic.

"My feet."

"Can you take your shoes off?" she asked, pulling the end of the table out so he could prop his legs up.

He reached down and pulled the sneakers off his feet, wincing in pain.

Tatum had seen just about everything during her tenure as a medical examiner for New York City, but the shape this boy's feet were in shocked her. She was amazed he had walked in of his own accord. If he didn't end up requiring an amputation, or die from sepsis, she'd be surprised. "What's your name?" she asked softly.

"Charlie." He looked up at her with brown eyes that were too large for his pale face.

"Charlie, what happened to your feet?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. I think it was my shoes. I had some old shoes that didn't really fit, but some guy at the shelter gave me his pair the other day. I promised him I'd get my feet looked at, so here I am."

Tatum pulled on a pair of latex gloves and turned first his left foot then his right side to side. She snapped on a bright light and bent over to examine the skin. It was red and angry with scattered sores oozing green pus. He needed surgery, but getting that done for an indigent patient, especially a transient who most likely wouldn't follow up with care, was difficult.

"Rita?" she called.

A large-boned woman with gray hair entered the room. "Yeah, doc?"

She smiled at Charlie. "This is Charlie. I need you to take him to the whirlpool room. He needs to have his feet in the tub for twenty minutes with Hibiclens, then put Silvadene on the open areas, and wrap his feet up with a dressing. Then, see if you can get a line in, and give him two grams of Rocephin IV. You allergic to anything, Charlie?"

He shook his head. The pretty doctor made him feel comfortable – and worth something. She treated him like a person.

Tatum pulled her gloves off, washed her hands, and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, Charlie. Rita will take good care of you. Can you make sure to come back every day?"

He nodded.

"Good. You come here every day, and Rita will soak and dress your feet. I'll see you next week."

"Th-Thank you," he whispered. He sat in the wheelchair that the nurse had pushed into the room and sighed as she wheeled him out.

Tatum sighed as she scribbled on the chart that had been made up for Charlie. She dropped it off at the whirlpool room and entered the next exam room, reading the chart as she walked in. "Hello."

"Hey, doc."

Tatum jerked her head up; she'd know that gravelly voice anywhere. "Luke? Oh, my God… Is it…how can it be you? I-I thought you were dead!" She flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and forgetting all about professionalism.

He reached up and wrapped an arm around her waist, squeezing her to his chest. It had been so long since he'd had any real human contact, and he had to admit, it felt good. "No, I'm not dead."

She pulled back, remembering herself. "I-I'm sorry… I just didn't expect…"

Luke shrugged. He had avoided all conversation for so long…ever since… _Annie_. He had faded into the shadows after her murder for fear he would bring the same fate down on everyone he cared for.

"I'm so sorry about Annie," she said softly, searching his face. The lifelessness she saw in his eyes scared her.

He shrugged again. "Thanks. Not much to be done for it now."

Tatum nodded and sat down on the stool. "What brings you here?" she asked, wanting to steer their conversation back onto neutral ground.

"I've had a cough I can't get rid of."

She pulled her stethoscope out and laid the diaphragm on his chest, instructing him to breathe deeply. After several moments, she pulled back. "Fever?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I think. 'Course, I haven't checked it." He went on to describe his symptoms to her, then asked, "What are you doing here? You finally get tired of dead people?"

She wrote some information in his chart then looked up, surprised again that Luke Wright was actually sitting in front of her, in the flesh. "No. I just volunteer here on Saturday mornings, unless I get called out to a crime scene."

Luke laughed humorlessly. "Always trying to save the world…"

Tatum scowled at him. "I try," she said dryly.

"So, am I gonna live?"

"Yes."

"Damn."

She knew he was joking – to an extent – but his eyes still held that dead look. "You have bronchitis. I'll give you some antibiotics for it, and it should clear up. But don't let it get worse. You don't want pneumonia."

"Okay."

She left him in the exam room and let herself into the medication closet. She pulled out enough samples to effectively treat him, dropped them into a small, plastic bag, and headed back to the exam room.

"Take two today, then one daily until they're gone," she instructed. "Where are you staying?"

He shrugged again. "No idea. Probably go to one of the shelters…"

"When was the last time you ate?" she asked.

"Yesterday. I try to get one meal a day at either a shelter or a soup kitchen. But it's all right."

She paused for only a split second before writing her address on a scrap of paper. "Come over tonight around six. I've got some cooking planned this afternoon, so I'll have plenty of food that needs to be eaten. Plus, we can catch up."

Luke took the paper from her and stared at the address. "Greenwich? You're moving up in the world."

"Yeah, I guess. Will you come?"

He thought for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I'll be there. You expecting anyone else?"

"No."

He finally smiled slightly. "Good. See you at six." He picked up his rucksack and left the exam room.

Tatum stared after him for a few moments. Luke Wright had been one of the few NYPD detectives she had enjoyed working with. His mind was quick, and his wit was sharp. He was able to piece crime scenes together better than anyone she had met. His work ethic was no holds barred, take no prisoners. He was honest to a fault, and many of his colleagues were not impressed with his abhorrence of bribery. There were more honest NYPD cops than there were dishonest ones, but he seemed to have been surrounded by the ones with less than ideal morals.

Then, one day, he disappeared. All of his open cases had been transferred to other detectives on the anti-terrorism squad, and all of her queries were met with brick walls. It was as if no one knew where he had gone – as if he'd just vanished from the face of the Earth. The only information she had heard had been that he had quit the force and was moonlighting as an MMA fighter in Jersey. And a few months later, his wife had been brutally murdered in their home. Whispers floated around that Docheski had dispatched his men to make a statement to Luke for not taking the dive in a specific cage match, which supposedly had cost him millions.

She had not known what to think. She had assumed that either the Russians had gotten him, or he had committed suicide over the death of his wife. And after a year, he had become nothing more than a ghost legend – the stuff rookies were told in whispered conversations when veterans wanted to shake them up a bit.

But today, he had been sitting in an exam room in the flesh. And he looked like hell. Apparently, his exile had taken him underground where every day was a fight for survival.

She prayed that he would keep his word and take her up on her offer.

xXx

Tatum glanced at the clock for the thousandth time. It was 5:55 p.m. She had instructed the doorman of her building that she was expecting a guest who would appear to be homeless and to let him up. Otherwise, Luke would have been run back into the street.

She nervously adjusted her T-shirt, and then needlessly stirred the spaghetti sauce that was simmering on the stove. The knock at her door caused her to jump.

She hurried to the front door and flung it wide, still not quite believing that Luke was standing in front of her. "Hi," she said softly.

"Hi." He shuffled his feet.

"Come in," she said, standing back and inviting him inside. He stood in the foyer and looked around.

"Nice."

"Thanks." She shut the door behind him and turned, continuing to stare at him. Even in his dilapidated state, he was as handsome as ever.

Luke sniffed the air. "Something smells good," he said, his stomach grumbling loudly.

She led him into the living room. "Thanks. I hope you're in the mood for spaghetti."

He raised an eyebrow. "Tate, I haven't eaten shit this past week. Anything you made will taste delicious." His mouth was beginning to water. He looked around at her pristine living room, with the pale, slipcovered furniture, and he was suddenly uncomfortable. It had been weeks since he'd bathed, and he didn't want to soil her home with his filth.

She swallowed. "Um…I set some stuff out for you…in the bathroom. I-I thought you might like a shower."

Luke smiled. "A shower would be great."

Tatum smiled back. She hadn't wanted to offend him. "Follow me," she said and led him down the hallway into the bathroom. On the counter, she had placed a clean, fluffy towel, a new toothbrush, a razor, and a can of shaving cream. She pulled a department store bag from the linen closet and handed it to him. He opened it and pulled out a new pair of jeans, a cream button-down shirt, a package of underwear, and a package of socks.

He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. If Docheski knew where he was and that Tatum was his friend… He wouldn't survive the guilt of causing the death of another person he cared for again. "Thank you," he whispered.

She couldn't meet his eyes. "You're welcome. Well, I'll just leave you to it, then." She pulled the door shut behind her on her way out and headed back into the kitchen. She busied herself by hand washing the few dishes in the sink and setting the table, carefully folding the napkins and placing the silverware just so.

She had set the spaghetti on the table and was just taking the garlic bread out of the oven when Luke padded into the kitchen. She looked up at him and smiled. "Nice," she said, nodding at him.

He grinned at her and looked down at his new clothes. It felt wonderful to be clean again. "How'd you know my size?"

Tatum laughed. "Luke, I'm a doctor who works mostly with the dead. I'm pretty good at eyeballing someone's measurements."

"A bit more morbid than I would have liked."

She shrugged and set the bread basket on the table. "You asked."

"That I did. What can I do to help?"

She pointed at a chair. "You can sit. All I have to do is grab the wine, and we'll be ready."

Luke looked down at the feast spread before him. He hadn't had so much food at his disposal since Annie had cooked his last meal. He sat in the chair Tatum had pointed to and folded his hands. He wasn't a praying man, but at this moment in his life, he felt nothing but gratitude for what he had been handed that day.

Tatum entered the dining room and set the bottle of chilled wine on the table before settling in her seat. She motioned that Luke should serve himself first, so he did. She waited until both of them had their plates full and the wine poured before she said, "Okay, now tell me where in the hell you've been the last year."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I hope you are enjoying! Thank you for reading, and I would be thrilled to hear what you think! So, hit that little button at the bottom of the page!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from the **_**Safe**_** universe. I am only playing with the characters.**

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Luke stared down at his plate, contemplating what to tell her. He knew she deserved answers, but he did not want to tell her anything that would put her in danger. Instead of speaking, he picked up his fork and took a big bite of spaghetti.

"Mmm," he sighed, "that's good…"

Tatum took a sip of wine and started to eat. She could tell he was processing how he wanted to answer her question, so she did not rush him.

They ate the meal in silence, and when Luke had finished his glass of wine, he pushed back from the table and walked over to the patio door. He stuck his hands into his pockets and stared out into the lights of Manhattan.

She was unsure if he intended to speak, so she just watched him as he stood looking out at a world that went on, even though he was no longer an active participant anymore.

He sighed and finally spoke. "I had no choice but to disappear. Docheski made sure of that."

"So, the rumors were true? He murdered Annie because of a cage match?" She shuddered, remembering the gruesome scene and the plethora of stab wounds that had been on Annie's body.

Luke nodded. "Yeah. I walked into the house while they were still there. Even with all of my training, I wasn't able to save her. She died because of me." He rubbed at his eyes, feeling the familiar prick of tears behind his lids.

Tatum slipped into the kitchen and brought him a bottle of beer. She leaned against the doorjamb and took a long drink of her own. "She died because of Docheski."

He tipped the bottle back and swallowed the bitter brew. Then, he continued, "One fight…one fucking fight! If I'd known…" He shook his head. "And I'm putting you in danger just by being here; I shouldn't have come."

"Yes, you should have. I'm glad you did."

"You don't understand. Docheski has men follow me. I wanted them to kill me when I found Annie. All I could do was fall to the floor and pray for a bullet to the head. But they didn't. No, their revenge was crueler than that."

She took another drink. "What did they do?"

"They left me alive. Alive with the knowledge that my wife was dead because of me. And they told me that anyone I got close to, they would kill them, too." He shook his head and looked around. "I shouldn't have come here."

"Luke, it's fine. Nothing's going to happen. Have you been to the police with this? Maybe if you talked to Captain Wolf—"

He interrupted her. "Wolf's on the take with the Russians – and the Triads."

Tatum's mouth fell open. "What?" she whispered. She had had a gut feeling about many of the cops on the force – and she had always thought Captain Wolf was a jerk – but hearing it spoken out loud still shocked her.

"Yeah. There's no one that can get me out of this mess. And if they do something to you because of me…" He looked into her gray eyes and a deep fear seized him. "I better go."

She put her hand on his forearm to stop him. "No. Please, stay here…at least for tonight."

He studied her face for a few moments. Maybe she was right. No one had come knocking her door down, so maybe he had not been followed. And they were concealed from prying eyes in her apartment. If he left now and Docheski's men were outside, they would know where he had been and would not hesitate to eliminate Tatum to make a point. "Okay. It's safer for you that way, but then I'll sneak out the back way tomorrow after you've gone to work."

She sighed in relief. "Good."

She left him staring out the window and hurriedly cleaned the table and loaded the dishwasher. She then slipped down the hallway and put on her pajamas. When she returned to the living room, she found Luke had already drawn all of the blinds and was checking the lock on the front door.

"Do you have another door?"

Tatum shook her head.

"I checked all of the windows. Go set the alarm. I'm not taking any risks with you."

She did as he asked, then pulled a couple of pillows and blankets out of the hall closet. She was tucking a sheet over the couch when he stopped her.

"What are you doing?"

She gave him a sardonic look. "I'm making your bed up for the night."

He chuckled. "Tate, I don't need anything fancy. I've been sleeping on cots in crowded shelters for a year – park benches when the weather's nice. Don't go to any trouble."

She bit her bottom lip. He did not want to be a burden, yet she was a caregiver by nature. She enjoyed having the opportunity to take care of him. "Luke, what kind of hostess would I be if I let my guest sleep on my sofa without a pillow or blanket? I'd never be able to sleep."

"Well, if it makes you feel better…"

She grinned at him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Tatum padded around the apartment, turning all of the lights off except for a lamp in the living room. It cast a soft glow over the room, and she wrapped a chenille throw around her then settled in the overstuffed chair, her legs folded underneath her. "Do you want to watch TV?"

He unbuttoned his shirt and rolled the sleeves up before sitting down on his makeshift bed. "Nah. I haven't had any real conversation in a year. I'd rather we just talked, if that's all right with you."

"Of course. You don't know how much I've missed you," she said softly, forcing her eyes to focus on his green ones and not on his exposed chest.

"I've missed you, too," he answered in a whisper. He drank the sight of her in, not knowing if he would see her again after tonight. Her safety was everything, and he would not risk it by being selfish.

The two of them had met in the morgue several years prior. She had moved to New York City from Boston when she had secured a position with the Office of the Medical Examiner, and Luke had been working the anti-terrorism squad after his bosses had sent him to New York to help with the crime wave that had swept through after the terrorist attacks. He recalled that he had not been impressed with the young Dr. Kennedy. She had reminded him of an uppity, spoiled, trust-fund baby with her tailored skirt, silk shirt, and heels.

However, his opinion had done an abrupt about-face when she showed up at a crime scene he was working. It had been ugly – a mafia hit. The victim had washed ashore from the harbor with his hands and feet missing. The body had been waterlogged, and you could see where an assortment of marine animals had been nibbling. The smell had been horrendous. But Tatum had squatted down right next to the corpse without showing any signs of disgust. She had looked over the scene for clues that would help her determine cause of death and identity before announcing to the techs that they could bag the body for transport to the morgue. He had been so interested in her methods that he had shown up at the morgue to watch the autopsy. He had been thoroughly impressed by her efficient and methodical techniques. He knew that she was the real deal.

After that case, they had become fast friends, and they routinely worked cases together, sometimes reviewing evidence and reconstructing crime scenes up into the wee hours. But nothing other than work had ever occurred between them. Tatum had been married to her career, and he was married and loved his wife. He had been touched when she had claimed Annie's case, and he had been moved to tears at how gentle she had treated his wife's body. He would never be able to repay her for that.

And now, he had put her life in danger, just by existing. His stomach churned at the thought of her body, cold and mutilated…as Annie's had been. Annie had thought she was pregnant at the time but had not had a chance to get a pregnancy test to confirm it. The son of a bitch who had gloated in his living room about killing her had mentioned that he thought she was "eating for two." His comment had only twisted the knife in deeper. Not only had he been responsible for Annie's death, but he had basically murdered his own child, as well.

"Luke," she said, pulling him from his reverie, "what are you planning to do? You can't live in the streets forever." She looked at him worriedly.

He sighed. "I don't have a choice." He looked up at her, and the dead look she had seen in his eyes had reappeared.

"Yes, you do! Let's just…leave…" She trailed off.

He looked at her intently. "You'd run away with me? Just leave everything behind?"

Tatum swallowed and thought hard. Would she be willing to leave behind everything to be with him? They had never been more than friends. He had been completely devoted to his wife, but they had a connection that she had never found with anyone else.

She had always been more interested in her career – when she was younger, it was preparing for her career – than dating. She was on call twenty-four hours a day, and most men did not appreciate being shrugged off for a dead guy. But she felt Luke would be different; he would understand.

She had always found him attractive (hell, she might not be into the dating scene, but she was not dead!) and pulled toward his personality. But could she up and leave it all for him?

Yes. Yes, she could.

She nodded, her eyes wide. Luke stared at her in surprise.

"Y-You would?" he asked softly. Her admission had sent shockwaves through his system.

"I would," she whispered. As the words left her lips, she knew she meant them.

Luke sat back on the sofa, overwhelmed by the trust he saw in her eyes. However, the fear gripped him again, and he decided that he would leave in the morning. He could not – _would_ not – put her in any form of danger, even if it meant he was doomed to live out his remaining years alone and on the streets. To him, it was a small price to pay to keep the one person who mattered to him safe.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you to whoever is reading! I am writing this purely for fun, but I do hope you enjoy! I would love to hear from you! The song below is **_**Pain**_** by Three Day's Grace. It seems to fit the characters. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own, yada yada…**

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_Pain without love  
Pain, I can't get enough  
Pain, I like it rough  
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all_

_You're sick of feeling of numb  
You're not the only one  
I'll take you by the hand  
And I'll show you a world that you can understand  
This life is filled with hurt  
When happiness doesn't work  
Trust me, and take my hand  
When the lights go out, you'll understand…_

Luke stared down at the electric subway rail and slid his toes closer, so they were hanging off of the edge. After he had left Tatum's apartment, he had wandered around the city for a while before being accosted by his former teammates. He had not seen them for over a year – not since he had blown the whistle on them for taking bribes and padding their pockets. They had all been counseled, had to attend ethics classes, and were busted down in rank. They no longer enjoyed the privilege and glamour of being on one of the most specialized police teams in the country.

Needless to say, Mears had not been happy to see him and had pushed him into the backseat of the patrol car. Luke knew they wanted to kick his ass. His hunch had been confirmed when Mears had called his former colleagues and told them to meet him and Lasky at a construction site across the river.

Luke had taken the beating, but instincts as deep as his were hard to bury, and while he did not fight back, per say, he did halt Benoit from punching his face more than once. He had given him the one hit, but it had been nice to remind them all just what he truly _was_ capable of.

And then, they had brought up Annie. Even after all this time, she was a fresh wound to his soul. And every time he was reminded that he had caused her death, the agony ripped through him just as it had the moment he had seen her broken body on their bedroom floor. After he had told Lasky that he would lose his bet against him and walked away, the guilt settled down upon him like a thick fog. Everywhere he looked, he was reminded of his late wife… And every time he thought of her, he imagined how horrendous her last few moments on Earth must have been. Had she thought of him? Had she screamed his name, begging him to save her?

After wandering around for several hours, the burden had threatened to crush him, and he had ended up in the subway station. Death by train had been in the back of his mind, ever since the Russian had mentioned it. Up until now, however, he had thought that he was strong enough to not take the coward's way out. But he had fucked up by going to Tatum's house the night before. While he had seen no evidence that he had been followed, the fear still niggled at him that he could end up to blame for her death, as well.

Basically, for the good of the human race, he had determined that he was just too dangerous to live. And so, he now found himself perched on the platform, his feet on the yellow caution area with the tips hanging off over the chasm.

"Sorry, Annie," he whispered, tears filling his eyes. He was sorry for everything – for what he had done, for what he had failed to do, for who and what he was…

He looked down the dark tunnel, waiting for the roar that would tell him the moment was at hand. He was not afraid of pain or death. But as he stood waiting for his executioner to come rumbling down the track, his attention was diverted by a young, Chinese girl hurrying by and stopping by a post. As he looked at her, she looked up at him.

Luke shook his head and backed away from the edge. Yes, he might have decided that the best thing for mankind was for him to jump, but he did not wish to have the young girl witness him splattering all over DeKalb Avenue's subway station. That would be an experience that would put her in therapy for the rest of her life. He had ruined enough lives – he did not wish to add to his total.

He sighed and sat down on a bench along the wall, taking his flask out and drinking down a shot of whiskey. He relaxed when he felt the warmth from the alcohol spread through his chest. He looked up as a group of men marched past him, not paying much attention. When he heard what they were saying, he looked closer. They were _Russian_… He watched as the young girl moved around one of the posts, as if she was hiding from someone.

Then, one of the men in the Russian group turned, and Luke's stomach dropped. It was _him_. The Russian who had made the comment that he thought Annie might have been pregnant – _we're like, Charlie Manson family, no?_ The one who had helped Docheski's bastard son murder his innocent wife.

In that moment, Luke felt a hatred like he had never known fill his head until the swarming noise of the crowd and the screaming of the train were ringing in his ears. Suddenly, the subway train doors slid open, and the young girl quickly walked into one of the cars. He heard the Russian tell his men to board the train and search for her.

And he knew they were after the little Chinese girl – just as they had been after Annie.

Rage bloomed through his chest, and adrenaline surged through his limbs. He had not felt this response in over a year, but years of training could not be broken. Those fuckers were going to die…for the little girl he now knew he had to protect…for Annie and his unborn child.

He stood quickly and jogged over to the train, but the doors had already slid shut. He looked through the windows and saw her walking quickly through the car, fear plainly etched on her face. He began to run beside the train as it picked up speed leaving the station, and at the last minute, he grabbed onto a bar at the end of the last car.

Muscles he had not used in a year screamed at the sudden demand, and he struggled to pull himself up on the small platform. He tried to open the emergency exit door to no avail. He held onto the rails as the train sped over a bridge while he got his bearings. He realized he was going to have to enter from one of the connecting doors, so he worked to pull himself up onto the roof of the subway car.

"Shit," he muttered as he pulled his weight up with only his arms. _You've gotten soft, Luke,_ he told himself but ignored the protests of his body as he walked quickly over the roof, looking for a way in. He prayed the girl would be able to outmaneuver the Russians long enough for him to get to her. _Hang on, kid…_

He saw the break between the cars just as a communication light board came into view. He had to get into that crevice before that, or he would only be a smear on the roof. He ran a bit faster, trying to keep his balance, and jumped down between the cars just as the light passed overhead.

He opened the door and backtracked through the cars, passing New Yorkers going about their daily business and having no idea that his world was at its crossroads. What he did in the next few minutes would decide his future.

He saw the Russians up ahead; the girl had cornered herself at the end of the train and had nowhere to go. She stood still, waiting for them to make their move.

Luke never allowed them to do anything more than plan. He grabbed the first man by the face, spinning him around and head butting him into unconsciousness. He allowed his instincts to take over, fueled on by rage. He kicked, hit, and punched his way through the small group, using items around him as weapons. He wanted them to hurt; he wanted their final moments to be filled with pain, as Annie's had been. His goal was to get to the man who had ruined his life, and after a few moments, he got his wish.

The Russian pulled out a handgun and pointed it at Luke, but Luke was faster and grabbed the end, twisting it down and breaking the man's fingers in the process. He quickly punched him in the throat, and then when he fell onto the seat, he braced his knee on the man's forearm and pulled upwards, breaking the bones. The man screamed in agony, and the sound was like a balm to Luke's ragged soul.

The Russian turned over, groaning and holding his arm, and then looked up at his assailant. Recognition flashed in his eyes.

"You?" he gasped. "The garbage collector?" He was unable to believe the garbage man was standing in front of him after just handing him a professional ass kicking.

Luke looked down into the man's cold eyes and purposefully pointed the gun he had taken in his face. "You got bad information," he explained, his own eyes hard. "I never collected garbage. I disposed of it."

He stared into the man's face, and then pulled the trigger, unaffected by the blood and brain matter that flew onto the surrounding area. He was pulled back into the moment by the screams of the passengers in the subway car.

"Don't lose sleep," he said calmly. "He had it comin'."

He then turned and quickly pocketed items from the dead men that he would need. He grabbed a couple of wallets and a cell phone, along with some clips for the gun he had taken. He then walked toward the back of the next car where the girl stood, her eyes wide. He had to stop, however, between the cars as the meager contents of his stomach came up.

The exertion along with the alcohol he had consumed apparently did not mix. And now that his adrenaline was ebbing, his muscles were protesting the workout he had just put them through. He had had no physical activity for a year, and his body was none too happy about jumping back into the world of fighting.

He barely noticed the people around him freaking out. He only had eyes for the child that he had decided to protect. He walked within a few feet of her but did not get closer for fear of scaring her. She _had_ just seen him murder five men, after all.

"Are you all right?" he asked, still gasping for breath.

She did not reply, just stared at him, but when the alarm sounded that the doors were about to close, she darted out between them and took off running.

"Fuck," he muttered with a sigh before running back through the connection door and jumping onto the platform. He watched her small form head up the stairs to the street above with the crowd and followed quickly.

As he snuck past a patrol officer, he heard a communication through the two-way radio that instructed all units that once the girl was found, she was to be brought to Captain Wolf. His stomach turned again. If she was to be taken to the captain, that meant she was involved in something so deep that she would not be able to get herself out.

He jogged up the stairs and out onto the street, scanning the crowd for her. He spotted her on the opposite sidewalk, trying to blend in with the people crossing the street. He had almost reached her when she was grabbed by a plainclothes police officer.

Luke groaned when he saw who it was – his old buddies, Kolfax and Reddick. He knew for a certainty now that if she went with them, nothing good would come of it. He silently circled around until Reddick had put her into the backseat of the cruiser and then whistled to get their attention. When they turned, he struck, hitting Kolfax with the door before kicking them both, then following with a couple of punches to the face and throat.

Reddick fell to the sidewalk, gasping for breath, and Kolfax was slumped over in the passenger seat, his legs dangling out on the ground. Luke straightened his jacket before grabbing Kolfax by the shirt and hauling him out of the car.

"Fucking New York City… Don't see someone for years, then you bump into them twice in the same day," he muttered, looking with disgust down at the two men.

He turned as the girl slid out of the backseat and attempted to walk off. He grabbed her by the arm. "Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you," he said to her, hoping she understood him. He then heard an engine racing and tires squealing and looked up to see another group of Russians starting to get out of a BMW. He pulled the girl with him as he climbed into the driver's seat of the patrol car. "What the hell did you do, kid?" he asked, a trace of humor in his voice.

He pulled her head down as shots hit the back windshield, and he quickly put the car into reverse and hit the gas, knocking the man who was shooting at them from behind up and over the roof and hood. He reached over to buckle her seatbelt, then put the car in drive and punched the gas again, running over the man, who had just stood, and bouncing him back over the roof and trunk and onto the pavement.

Luke floored the gas and dodged into traffic. "You know, those men chasing you are bad. You wanna tell me why they're after you?" he asked, glancing over at her.

She did not respond.

"Do you understand me?" he asked over shots pinging on the glass. "You speak English?"

He gritted his teeth as a SUV behind them gunned its engine and smashed into the back of his car. _Bring it on, motherfucker,_ he thought, weaving in and out of traffic while they continued to shoot at him. He felt a surge of excitement as his skills came rushing back to him.

He squealed around a corner and dodged into oncoming traffic, hoping to lose his pursuers.

"The other way! Cars go the other way!" the girl yelled at him, her hands braced on the dash. "Are you a crazy man?"

_So, she does speak English,_ he thought sardonically. He just glanced at her then back at the road. He needed all of his concentration if he was going to get them out of this alive. He hit the gas again and raced ahead through an intersection. He smiled grimly when the SUV tailing them ran through the intersection, lost control, and was plowed into by a city bus.

One group down…

"Hold on," he instructed, watching as the BMW gained on them. He sharply turned a corner and headed up another street. "If this goes on, a lot of innocent people are gonna get hurt. You want that?"

She looked at him and shook her head.

"Good. Then do what I say," he said, then sped ahead, quickly turning another corner and driving through a cloud of steam from the sewer. He screeched to a stop and told her, "Get out quickly and hide behind that dumpster. Don't move."

She threw her door open and ran to where he had told her, crouching down and covering her ears.

Luke backed into a doorway, hidden from view, and waited. Within a moment, the BMW stopped directly behind the police car, but before they could get out of their car, he stepped up and fired the gun through the driver's window. When one man in the backseat tried to get out, he grabbed him and fired directly into his chest, killing him and the man behind him. A few more well-aimed shots and they were all dead.

He stopped and surveyed the scene for a moment with a grim expression before bending to pick up the gun the man from the backseat had dropped. He stuck it in his waistband and pulled his jacket over it.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, squatting down beside her. She just looked up at him; her expression reminded him of someone who had witnessed death before. He held his hand out to her and said, "Then let's go."

She looked at his hand and rolled her eyes. "I'm not five years old," she said.

He nodded and pulled his hand away, trying not to smile. She had spunk! He straightened his face and said, "Then keep up," before standing up and walking off down the alley.

He heard her get up and follow him, so he slowed his pace ever so slightly so that she could catch up.

They walked a couple of blocks before she spoke.

"Now what?"

He stopped. He was not sure what they needed to do now, but there was only one person he could think of whom he could trust to help them. He pulled out the cell phone he had taken and dialed information.

"Information. How can I help you?" came a nasally voice over the line.

"Connect me to the Office of the Medical Examiner in Manhattan," he said.

"Sir, I would be glad to connect you, but there is a two dollar charge for this service," the operator whined.

"Fine," he clipped out. He shuffled his feet as he waited for someone to pick up the phone.

"Office of the Medical Examiner, how may I direct your call?"

"Dr. Tatum Kennedy, please."

He heard a few moments of classical music before someone picked up. "Morgue."

"I need to speak to Dr. Tatum Kennedy, please. It's an emergency."

"Who may I say is calling?" the secretary asked in a bored voice.

Shit. He did not want to identify himself over the phone, especially considering that he had just killed a pack of Russian mafia and kicked the shit out of a couple of cops. "Um, tell her it's…Mr. Cage from New Jersey."

The little girl rolled her eyes at him, and he scowled. So, he was not great at improvising…

"Hold on." He was left listening to the classical music again. He shuffled his feet until the secretary came on the line. "Sir, Dr. Kennedy is in post and can't be disturbed. May I take a message?"

Dammit! "Yes," he ground out. "Have her call me at this number"—he checked the phone for the number and recited it off—"as soon as she gets out. Tell her it's a matter of life or death."

"Yes, sir."

She hung up, and he stared down at the phone's display.

"Who's Dr. Kennedy?" the girl asked him.

He sighed. "She's the only person I can think of that can help us. Come on. I need some different clothes." He took her hand and led her down the sidewalk, looking for a small shop where he could get some clothing that he would not look like a bum in and waiting impatiently for Tatum to call him back.

* * *

**End Notes: Hit that little review button and leave me some love… You know you want to!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you to 88dragon06 and Brina for your wonderful and kind reviews! You have made my day by letting me know that someone is enjoying this little story…besides me! Hopefully, we will see some more good stories in this fandom soon. There's not nearly enough fanfics from Jason Statham's movies for my liking! Hehe! I know this may be moving a bit slow to start, but we'll be getting to the action soon, now that everyone has been properly introduced. And, while I am trying to stay true to the movie with dialogue and scenes, obviously I am changing some of it to fit my storyline. And if anyone knows what hotel Luke checked into in the movie, please let me know! I like to keep things as accurate as possible, but since I couldn't find any reference to it, I just chose a nice, swanky hotel in NYC.**

**Luke: No one's gonna care if you get the hotel name exactly right. We've got more to worry about than those things – like the Russians **_**and**_** the Triads.**

**Me: *puts hands on hips* Well, maybe so, but the story would have been different if you had checked into a Motel 6, so it **_**is**_** important.**

**Luke: *rolls eyes* Can we just get on with the story, please? I haven't had anything to eat since I left Tatum's apartment, and I'm starving here! I was homeless for a year! *narrows eyes* You are going to still make Wolf bring me that sandwich, aren't you?**

***crickets chirp***

**Luke: Lisa…**

**Me: *stares at computer screen, typing feverishly* You'll see when we get there.**

**Luke: *mutters under his breath and sulks* Fine, but **_**they**_** want me to get that damn sandwich, don't you readers?! I'm not any good to anyone if I'm faint with hunger.**

**Me: Fine, we'll see if they want you to get your damn sandwich. If they do, I'll make sure Captain Wolf brings it to you!**

**Luke: *Bats eyelashes* Okay, girls (and any guy readers). You heard her… Leave a review at the bottom, and tell her that I need my sandwich!**

**Me: Now shut up, so they can read!**

**Luke: *holds up flashing arrow sign at the review button at the bottom of the page***

* * *

Tatum pulled her disposable gown and shoe covers off, removed her gloves, threw it all in the biohazard waste bin, and then scrubbed her hands and forearms. She briskly walked to her office, her shoes squeaking on the industrial tile floor. The noise irritated her.

Oh, hell, who was she kidding? She wasn't upset at her shoes… She was upset at the autopsy she had just done. A seventeen year old girl, pretty and slim – had been a cheerleader and student council president at her high school. She had most likely never been in any trouble, but all it had taken was one party. One party where the kids were getting high. One party where the cocksure, preppy boy brought out a bag of cocaine…a bag of cocaine that had been laced with microscopic glass fragments. Lindsey Martin had no doubt snorted a line, thinking no harm would come to her for giving it a try. She had only been looking for a high – an enhancement that would allow her to enjoy her night.

What she had received when she had snorted the laced powder into her lungs had been thousands of tiny lacerations to her bronchioles and alveoli, causing hemorrhaging in her lungs. She had basically drowned in her own blood.

Tatum pressed her lips into a thin line. What a waste! She would have to break it to the parents that their daughter had died from drug use. She had no idea how they would react. And to top it off, she was now concerned that others would be coming into her morgue after snorting a line of the laced blow.

She sat down heavily at her desk and pulled the Dictaphone toward her, so she could begin dictating her autopsy findings. She was no farther than the external exam when Tracey, her secretary, sashayed into her office and placed a Post-It note on the center of her desk.

"You had a message. Said it was an emergency."

Tatum picked up the note and read it. _Call Mr. Cage from Jersey ASAP. Emergency. 212-603-2795._ "Who's Mr. Cage?" she wondered out loud.

Tracey just shrugged and walked back to her desk. Once she was gone, Tatum got up and shut her door, then picked up her phone. Maybe it was a family member of one of her patients…

She listened as the phone rang twice, and then was greeted by a coarse voice. "Tate?"

Her stomach dropped. It was Luke. But why was he using fake names? And where did he get a cell phone? "Luke?" she choked out. She hadn't thought she would see him again.

"Yeah. I'm sorry I called you at work, but I didn't know who else I could trust."

Her heart started pounding. "What are you talking about?"

"Look, I don't want to get into it over the phone – especially your work phone. Can you meet me?" he asked.

"Sure. Where?" She was already standing, pulling her purse out of the desk drawer she locked it up in during the day.

He hesitated. "Do you remember where I told you I took Annie on our wedding night?" She immediately knew that he did not want to give his location away by name over the phone.

"Yes," she said, recalling an old conversation they'd had over pizza and beer. "I'll be there shortly."

xXx

Luke stood in a corner of the lobby of the W Hotel in Times Square. He impatiently checked the time on his newly-acquired cell phone for the thousandth time. After what seemed an eternity – but in reality was only half an hour – Tatum walked through the door. He stepped closer, so she'd see him. Without speaking or publically acknowledging her, he stepped into an elevator and pushed the "door close" button as soon as she was onboard.

He punched the button for the tenth floor, and then looked over at her. "Thank you for coming."

She stared down at her feet. "You're welcome… Luke, what's going on?"

"We'll _all_ find out in a minute," he said cryptically.

"We? Who's we?"

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. He took her elbow and guided her down the hall, stopping in front of room 1012. Silently, he slid his keycard into the slot and pushed the door open when the light flashed green. Tatum followed him into the room, and then stopped dead in her tracks. She stared at the young girl who was perched on the end of the bed, watching cartoons.

She looked over at Luke, her eyes full of questions. What the hell was going on?

Luke took the remote from the girl and switched the television off. "We all need to talk."

The girl looked over at him. "Why did you save me?" she asked simply.

Tatum sank down onto the edge of the bed and held her silence. She was familiar with how Luke worked, and she knew that she would find out what was going on soon.

"I didn't save you; you saved me. I'm paying you back. My name's Luke," he said, extending his hand to the girl. "This is Tatum. She's the doctor I told you about on our way here."

She looked at his hand momentarily before putting her small one in his and shaking. "Mei."

He stood up and walked to the minibar. "You have parents, Mei?"

"I have a father."

"What's his name?"

She popped a pretzel into her mouth. Tatum assumed she had gotten the bag from the minibar Luke was currently raiding. "Chang Quan."

Tatum's breath caught in her throat. Chang Quan was no good… He was into organized crime, one of the Triad leaders in the city. How did this young girl fit into Triad dealings?

Luke took a small bottle from the fridge and twisted the top off. "If we're talking about the same guy, he didn't have any kids the last time I checked. And any he made since then wouldn't be a day over three years old."

"I'm adopted," she said, a trace of irritation in her voice, as if she had answered this question before.

"Did he bring you from back home?" Luke asked, sitting back down beside her.

She nodded.

"Chang isn't the fatherly type. Why are you here, Mei?"

She looked into his eyes for a few seconds, and then simply replied, "To count."

Chills ran down Tatum's spine. The Triads were using a young girl to keep their records? Where were her parents? How did she become a pawn in their deadly game?

"You were sent over by the old guy, Chang's boss. What's his name? Old school. No computers, no electronic trails… Just what you have in your head, right?"

She looked up at him. "You know Jiao Han?"

"I know of him," Luke replied.

She stood up and walked over to another chair. "He told me a number, a very long number. I was going someplace where I would get another number and more instructions, but then the Russians came and shot everyone. Then the police came, and I ran away. Now you know everything. Happiness for you?" she said, a biting tone to her voice.

"Luke?" Tatum asked, completely lost. "What is going on?"

He sighed and sat down on the bed before beginning to explain. "Earlier, after I left your house, I wandered around a bit before I ended up in the subway. I was in a…bad place. _Mentally_." He looked into her eyes, trying to communicate what he meant without saying it in front of Mei. Her eyes widened in understanding. "While I was in the station, I noticed Mei here looking like she was trying to hide from someone. Then I saw a pack of Russian mob. They were looking for her. They followed her onto the train, and I followed them." He didn't go into details about what he did when he found them.

"After the train stopped, Mei took off, and I followed her up to the street. Kolfax and Reddick had her and were putting her into the back of their car when a carload of more Russians showed up. I grabbed her, and we took off in the squad car. We managed to lose them, but then I wasn't sure what to do, so we came here, and I called you. Now you're caught up."

She eyed him. "And the new clothes…the expensive hotel room…?"

He smiled grimly. "Compliments of Mr. Ivanov, one of the Russian gentlemen…currently deceased."

She grimaced. She did not need to know that he had just committed identity theft. "So, what's your plan?"

Luke shook his head. "Don't know yet. We gotta figure out what's going on first." He turned back to Mei. "You wanna go back to Han Jiao?"

Mei shook her head. "I make too much trouble. Bad business. After I do what he asks, he kills me. Good business."

Tatum ached for this young child who already knew too much about death and _business_, as she referred to it. She thought back to Lindsey Martin and how different the two girls' lives were, yet this girl was still alive and the other dead.

"So, what about this number?" Luke asked, instinctively knowing the number was the key.

"It's a long, boring number. I can tell it to you," she said, a light in her eyes at being able to do something to make Luke happy after he had done so much for her.

He stared at her intently. "It wouldn't mean anything to me. But how do you know it's one number and not a bunch of separate numbers?"

She slowly grinned at him. "You're a crazy man, but not so stupid."

Tatum chuckled at that. Mei certainly had Luke summed up to a T…

He grinned at her, too. "Is there anything interesting to you about these numbers?" he asked. Tatum could see he was different from how he had been at her apartment the night before. He no longer appeared lost and apathetic. He looked alert…sharp. He was on the hunt after a long, forced absence, and she pitied anyone who stood in his way.

"Maybe a few of them."

"Why?"

Mei looked as if she was picturing the number in her head. "Because they have a three or seven before them. All the numbers are random. But five of them has a seven before, and eight of them has a three before. That's too many times to be random."

"It's a code," Luke said softly, understanding dawning on him. "What else?"

"Nothing."

"So, it's the three and the seven that are interesting because they happen too many times to be random. Because they're not numbers. They're words. Right-left or left-right. Old school. Combination to a safe."

A silence permeated the air of the room as they all digested his words. Tatum felt a shiver go through her while watching Luke figure out the mystery. It was as if the past year had never happened, and he was back in the game.

"How did you end up in the subway, Mei?" Tatum asked quietly, trying to mentally piece the puzzle together.

She looked over at her. "I was running from the Russians. They hit our car, and then shot everyone and took me to some old man. They kept trying to get me to tell them the number, but I wouldn't. I kept telling them I didn't know what they were talking about."

"How did they know about the number?" She had a gnawing suspicion that Luke's old colleagues were involved somehow.

She hesitated. "Ling."

"Who's Ling?" Luke asked.

"She worked for Uncle Han. One night, she told me that my mother had died. They weren't going to tell me because then I might not do what they said. But she told me…" Tears filled her eyes.

"I'm so sorry about your mother," Tatum said softly and walked over to the girl, putting her arm around her small shoulders.

Mei sniffed. "She was sick. My father ran away when I was a baby, so now I have no one."

"That's not true," Luke interjected. "Now, you have me."

Tatum squeezed her shoulders. "And me. And we won't let anything happen to you," she promised.

* * *

**End Notes: All right, you heard Luke. He's starving, so drop us a note and let me know if you think Luke needs his sandwich from Toscani's… **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you to 88dragon06 and Briana for your wonderful reviews! And Briana, since you behaved so nicely, here is Chapter 5! I am so glad others are enjoying this story! I love to write, but it's so fulfilling when others can get some enjoyment from it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Safe or Luke Wright… sigh. I wish I did! If I did own him, I like to fantasize that I'd be too busy to write fanfic… wink wink! And the lyrics at the beginning are from **_**Pain**_** by Three Days Grace. This song fits this story so well.**

**Luke: See, 88dragon06 and Briana voted for the sandwich. So, where is it?**

**Me: It's not been made yet. We're not to that point in the story.**

**Luke: What?! Come on, I haven't eaten since Chapter 1!**

**Me: Don't worry, we'll get there!**

**Luke: Yeah, easy for you to say. You can get up whenever you get hungry and fix something. I'm stuck here!**

**Me: Can you go five minutes without complaining?**

**Luke: I'm hungry and they voted to get me my sandwich!**

**Me: Yeah, and you'll get the sandwich…when we get to that scene!**

**Luke: *groans* Then where are we?**

**Me: We're still at the hotel.**

**Luke: Room service!**

* * *

_Pain, without love  
Pain, I can't get enough  
Pain, I like it rough  
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all_

_Anger and agony  
Are better than misery  
Trust me, I've got a plan  
When the lights go up, you'll understand…_

Tatum tucked the blanket in tighter around Mei's small form and was satisfied by her deep, even breathing that she was sleeping soundly. She left one lamp burning in the bedroom and shuffled out to the sitting area.

Luke was standing by the window, gazing out into a city that never sleeps. He never gave an indication he had heard her enter the room, but she instinctively knew he was aware of her presence. She stood silently for a moment before joining him at the window.

"What's going on?" she asked softly. "And don't bullshit me, Luke. Give it to me straight."

He sighed. "It's very convoluted…"

"Then start by telling me what you know about the Triads. How are they involved in all this?"

He stared out into the lights, and then turned to her. "I'm not sure, really. All I can tell you is Han Jiao snatched that little girl from China and brought her here, then gave her over to Quan. He had to get her in the country illegally, so someone high up helped him."

"Wolf?" she questioned.

Luke shook his head. "No, Wolf is just the gopher…a peon." He turned and looked at her intensely.

The niggling doubt exploded in her mind. "Surely not… Not th-the mayor?"

The grim set of his mouth was her answer.

"Holy shit," she whispered, sitting down on the closest ottoman. "Are you sure?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure."

Tatum could not seem to wrap her mind around what she had just been told. "So, you're telling me Danny Tremello, the mayor of New York City, is in bed with the Triads."

He nodded. "And possibly the Russians."

"How do you know?" she whispered, looking up at him fearfully.

Luke sighed and sat down in the chair opposite her. This was the part he had been dreading. He hesitated, fearful of her rejection when she learned the truth.

"Tell me."

"For starters, I'm not exactly who you think I am."

She remained silent, unsure how to respond.

He sighed heavily again and rubbed his eyes.

"Are you involved?" she finally asked when he did not elaborate.

He looked at her sharply. "Fuck, no. But it's why I left…why I quit."

"So… Who are you?" she asked softly.

He looked up and met her eyes. "I _was_ a government agent."

"The FBI?"

He shook his head. "No. I guess, for lack of a better explanation, I was a government sanctioned… assassin."

Tatum stared at him, dumbfounded. "I thought that was only true in movies and books," she said, feeling stupid at the words leaving her mouth. "And I thought the government disavowed assassinations years ago."

He smiled grimly. "All fiction is grounded in some truth. I worked for a division that didn't officially exist. It was all kept quiet—the ultimate black ops program. "That way, the government could look the other way, yet still eliminate who they wanted."

"Who did you…assassinate?" she questioned meekly.

Luke shook his head. "Doesn't matter. But after nine-eleven, Danny called my bosses and asked for help. The collapse of the towers and the resulting chaos kept the police chasing down terrorist cells in the city, which left the organized crime families free to run amok. I and my partner were sent in undercover to take out mafia, mob, and Triad members upon command."

Tatum felt as if her world was suddenly jerked to a halt and thrown in a backwards orbit. "Y-Your partner?" she stammered.

He hesitated before answering, "Alex Rosen."

"R-Rosen? As in, the mayor's top aide?"

He nodded. "He's dangerous, Tate. Don't fuck with him."

"I have no intention of fucking with him," she spat, then scowled at his lips twitching in a smile.

"All jokes aside, I mean it. Whatever happens, promise me you'll stay far away from him."

She nodded, still unable to mesh together the deadly picture Luke had just painted with the image of the soft-spoken and highly fashionable assistant to the mayor. She had always thought he was just another Ivy League yuppie.

"So, what happened?" she asked, needing to hear the end of this sordid bedtime story.

He shrugged. "I got disenchanted with it. Cold-blooded killing gets tiresome," he said wearily. "And I knew my so-called partners on the NYPD were in bed with the very monsters I had been sent to eliminate. It was frustrating watching all of my best efforts go to waste. So, my conscious got the best of me, and I confronted Danny and told him I was going to IA." He chuckled humorlessly. "You should have seen the panic on his face… I think he woke up every government official in his rolodex. Well, they talked me out of it, promised me they'd clean it all up. But I couldn't do it anymore, so I walked away."

"And just disappeared," she said, bitterness lacing her tone. "I had no idea what had happened to you. You just…left."

He reached out and brushed his fingertips down her cheek. "I'm sorry for that. But I couldn't risk letting anyone know how much I cared about you, so I did what I thought I needed to do to keep you safe. And now, I've drug you right into the fucking fire."

Tatum closed her eyes when he stroked her skin. She opened them to see him staring at her intently. She knew she had to ask, but she hated herself for inflicting more pain upon him. "And Annie? Did she know who you were?"

Pain flashed across his rugged features. "Yes, she knew some of it. I never told her all of it—didn't want to take away all of her innocence and trust in the system. And then, it's not even my past that got her killed. Talk about the fucking irony…" he said bitterly.

"So, what happened that day?" She had pieced most of it together from the crime scene, police report, and her autopsy, but big chunks were still missing.

Luke rubbed his eyes again and began to pace, agitated, but if he was honest with himself, purging his sins out loud and admitting exactly what he was to Tatum was cathartic. So, he continued, "After I quit, I took up cage fighting. It was something I was good at – damn good at – but to me, it was a way to pay my penance for all of the death I was responsible for."

"How?" she asked, confused.

He laughed mirthlessly. "I didn't ever really fight back, just took the beating given to me. I threw a punch here and there to keep it interesting and so they'd keep scheduling fights for me, but in the end, I lost on purpose. I was willingly taking the beating I knew I deserved."

She ached at the pain emanating from him.

"I was a monster… But I had Annie at home." He sighed. "She knew some of what I had done, and she still loved me anyway. And I loved her – she deserved no less. She was a wonderful woman who accepted me, faults and all. And how did I repay her? By getting her fucking slaughtered!"

Tatum sat quietly, waiting for him to continue.

Luke sat down again and sighed heavily. "I was signed on to fight this one kid. Nothing major, nothing different. We get in the cage, and he dances around, like he knew what he was doing. And I struck – hit him one time, one fucking time! And down he goes, and I'm the winner by TKO. Kid ends up in a coma; apparently, he had an aneurysm that he didn't know about, and the force of the punch caused it to burst."

"How awful," she murmured, recalling the article in the _New York Times_.

"Yeah, and apparently that was the one fight Docheski had bet on – bet that I'd lose. No one bothered to tell me because I usually just let them beat me. So, he's pissed at Julius, and like the little weasel he is, he gives Docheski all of my information to save his own skin.

"I tried to get home in time… Tried calling her at home and on her cell. But by the time I got there, I was too late." His voice was choked with emotion. "I failed her. All of my training and I couldn't save her. She died a horrible death because of me."

Tatum reached over and covered his large, calloused hand with her own small one. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. She had met Annie a couple of times and remembered her as being a pleasant woman with a good sense of humor and who was devoted totally to her husband. Tatum recalled feeling a longing to have someone in her life that deserved that level of devotion.

"Did she suffer long?" he asked her suddenly, looking into her eyes.

She recalled the horrid scene, the blood splattered over the eggshell painted walls and soaked into the pale carpet, the multiple stab wounds across her chest. She answered him honestly. "No, I don't think so. From what I could tell, her aorta was rapidly severed, so she would have exsanguinated quickly."

He hesitated, but he had to ask; whether for his peace of mind or personal torment, he wasn't sure. "And the baby?" he whispered.

Tatum's brows drew together in confusion. "What baby?"

"Annie thought she was pregnant… I killed my wife and _child_…"

Her face cleared. "Luke, she wasn't pregnant."

His breath left him in a rush, as if he'd been punched in the gut. "W-What? You're sure?"

She nodded. "Yes, I'm positive."

"Thank God… Thank God…" he murmured. "Then…why did she think she was? What made her suspect that?"

Tatum hesitated, unsure how much she should divulge to him. He seemed in control, and she knew he deserved no less than the truth. Maybe it would help him to move on. "Luke… She was sick."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed. "She had stage IV ovarian cancer that had spread to her bladder and spine. It can cause vague symptoms that can mimic pregnancy, such as abdominal bloating, lower back pain, absence of a menstrual cycle, increased urination. I'm so sorry, Luke." This was the part of her job that she hated.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" he asked sharply.

"Because I didn't know where you were," she replied calmly. "By the time the pathology came back and I was able to look at her histology slides, you had gone underground."

"Oh," he said lamely and hung his head.

She reached out and placed her hand on his knee. "Luke… I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"It's okay. I understand."

He hesitated a moment. "So, are you telling me she was dying?"

Tatum nodded. "Yes, she was."

He sighed heavily. "What a goddamn worthless husband I was…"

"It wasn't your fault."

He shook his head. He had loved Annie in his own way. She had readily accepted him for who he was and had taken care of him. That was not something he had been accustomed to. She was funny and sweet, and he had been comfortable with her. But when he faced his own demons, he knew that he had not been passionately in love with her. At the time, he had thought that was all he was capable of. His exile from civilization had been more out of guilt. She had loved him deeply, and he had returned her feelings as much as he could. He had tried to be a good husband, was faithful and a good provider. But she had still deserved better.

"It wasn't your fault," she repeated.

"I didn't even know she was sick."

"I don't think she did, either. Ovarian cancer is a silent killer. It manifests in vague symptoms that are often confused for other reasons, such as believing she was pregnant. You had no way of knowing," she reiterated.

He rubbed his eyes again, and then looked up at Tatum. "You think?"

She saw the hope in his eyes and said firmly, "Absolutely."

"But I was still responsible for her murder," he murmured.

"No, you weren't. Docheski was. He's to blame, Luke. Not you."

He nodded absently. "The Russians in the subway station that were chasing Mei… It was the same guy that killed Annie."

"What?" she whispered, shocked.

"It was the same guy. I saw Mei hiding, then I saw that Russian bastard, and I just…snapped. I wasn't going to let him hurt her. I wasn't going to let him hurt anyone ever again. Tate, I was standing on the edge of the platform, ready to jump when the train came. She saved me," he said simply.

She ached for the pain and guilt he was suffering and wished she could take it away. "So, what did you do?"

"What I do best," he said simply, causing a shiver to run down her spine. When she looked into his eyes, the listless and guilt-ridden man was gone. Luke Wright, the secret government assassin and cold-blooded killer had returned.

**End Notes:** **Now, give us some love! Don't make me send Luke after you!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I am so sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out. I had some family issues that required my attention, so I had no writing time, but hopefully, all is well now, and we can continue on.**

**Luke: You think anyone is still reading this?**

**Me: Of course! People understand that real life happens.**

**Luke: I thought it was "shit happens." *sly grin***

**Me: *rolls eyes* I was trying to be diplomatic. There's no need to be crude.**

**Luke: *blinks innocently* Are you implying that I am anything less than a gentleman?**

**Me: I wouldn't dream of it.**

**Luke: *props feet up* That's more like it. Now, I'm hungry.**

**Me: *shrugs* Sorry, you still have a bit.**

**Luke: *sighs dramatically* If I become too weak with hunger to save Mei, it will be your fault.**

**Me: Just shut up, sit there, and look pretty.**

**Luke: *salutes* Yes, ma'am!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Safe**_** or anything that relates to it. I do own Tatum, so please don't try to steal her! Luke may hunt you down!**

* * *

Mei woke up startled, her heart beating a staccato rhythm. She was unsure what had woken her so suddenly, but she instinctively scooted out of the bed and slipped her feet into her shoes. She cracked the door open and looked out into the sitting area. Luke was at attention, his entire body tense, shoving the clip back into the gun in his hand. She stared up at him with wide eyes.

Tatum was staring down into the street from the window. "Shit," she muttered, gazing out at a group of Triads fanning out, some entering the hotel's lobby. "Luke…?" she asked uncertainly.

He quickly frisked Mei's jacket, pulling out a small, silver cell phone.

"It's off." She quickly defended herself. "I turned it off, so no one could call."

He had snapped the back off and pulled the battery out. "It doesn't need to be on," he explained while he handed her a pad of the hotel's stationery and a pen. "Write down the numbers – just the ones with a three or seven in front of them. Quick."

Mei began writing quickly, and Tatum slipped her bag over her shoulder. She wished she had not even brought it as the sounds of gunfire in the lobby told her she would not be strolling out of the building, but she could not leave it, either. She could leave no evidence that would tie her to Luke. If the mayor was dirty and he discovered she was involved… Her career, and possibly her life, would be over.

"I'll try to get you someplace safe," Luke was telling Mei. "If we get separated, don't tell them you told me anything or say anything about Tatum. Lie. If they try to scare you…"

"Try?" Mei asked with a hysterical tone to her voice. "I'm so scared already."

Luke took the paper from her and stuffed it in his pocket. "Yeah, me, too," he replied, surprising Tatum. She hoped he was only saying that to comfort Mei. Right now, she needed him to be strong…fearless. "Remember – lie," he reminded Mei again.

Tatum looked up at him, petrified at the thought of coming face to face with the Triads. He cupped her cheek and lightly brushed his lips over hers. "It'll be okay," he said softly. "Whatever happens, don't get separated from me."

"What about Mei?" she asked, looking down at the young girl and wrapping an arm protectively around her shoulders.

Luke shook his head. "If we all get separated and they get her, they won't hurt her. You, however…" he trailed off, and she immediately understood. She would be of no use to the Triads, and they would most likely kill her.

"I understand," she said, her voice weak. She had no intention of winding up on her own morgue table, her boss opening her body up and commenting on how it was so sad, she had been so young and full of promise, yada yada.

"No matter what happens, stay with me," he said again, looking deeply into her gray eyes. If something went wrong and he could not protect her… Well, he'd eat his gun as soon as Mei was safe and the bastards were dead.

She nodded and gripped Mei's small hand. "Let's go."

Luke stepped in front of them and opened the door, glancing out into the deserted hallway. They quickly walked, wanting to reach the elevators. A couple opened their door suddenly, probably going out to dinner, but the woman gasped and fell back into her companion when Luke pointed the gun at them. "Back inside," he ordered. As soon as the couple had shut their door, a Triad member stepped out of the elevator and spotted them.

Luke raised his gun and fired, killing the man instantly, but another one had already stepped over the dead body and raised his own gun to fire. Luke kicked open a door to the service stairs and fired again at the man before pulling Tatum and Mei into the stairwell. They quickly ran down the stairs as fast as they could, hoping to get to the ground floor before the men who had spotted them were able to get others after them.

When they were a few steps above the second floor landing, they heard the fractured chatter of the Chinese men who were starting up after them. Luke peered over the railing and spotted them heading up. He quickly opened the access door to the second floor and pushed Mei and Tatum behind him while they went through.

Tatum looked around. They were in the hotel restaurant's kitchen, and Luke quickly guided them into the dining room, hoping they could blend into the crowd and manage to sneak out. "Remember what I said," he said quietly to them both. They nodded and followed him out.

The Triads had already beaten them to the dining room and were holding the patrons hostage with their automatic weapons. As Luke headed toward the man closest to them, Mei pulled her hand from Tatum's and ran in the opposite direction, ducking behind the tables. Tatum looked after her for a moment before deciding to crawl the other way. If the Triads grabbed Mei before Luke got them out, then she could not be with her.

The Triad man turned when he heard Luke behind him and quickly swung his arm, which Luke grabbed and then punched him in the throat. Tatum could tell the force had broken the man's trachea, effectively putting him out of commission. Luke turned quickly and shot at another man before throwing another to the ground. He shot again, hitting another Triad member before turning and pistol-whipping the man on the ground.

This caused a panic through the room, and people began screaming and running for the door. One of the men shouted, "Everybody stay down! You ain't going nowhere!" This caused the hostages to panic even more, and many of them swarmed the door, trying desperately to get out, their fight-or-flight responses kicking in.

In the panic, Tatum moved back toward the doors leading to the kitchen, hoping she could escape back the way they had come. She and Luke made eye contact, and then they both looked over at Mei, who was crawling between the tables. Luke stood up suddenly and shot another man who was coming at him before turning and facing another who was able to push his hand down. The man pointed a gun at him, but he deflected the gun, the bullet shooting harmlessly into the wall. They struggled with each other, a few more rounds entering the ceiling. Tatum was biting her lip, terrified that one of them would best Luke. She had never seen him in action, and she found she could not draw her eyes away from the raw savagery and precision she saw in his face. He finally was able to get the guy with the pistol butt and knocked a couple more out before one of them tackled him over a service tray. She stared in awe at his ability to effectively fight two men, hand to hand, grimacing when he took a china plate and hit one in the throat with it.

He fought with several others in all of the surrounding confusion until they were all on the ground, Luke included. Tatum did not realize she was holding her breath until she saw him move, and it then escaped her in a rush. They locked eyes again and then heard Mei scream.

She had been grabbed around the waist by none other than Chang Quan, who quickly handed her off to one of his men. Once they had her in their possession, they then opened fire on Luke, who grabbed one of the semi-conscious men and used him as a human shield. Tatum stared in fascinated horror as he ran full-speed at the plate glass window and went through it, falling down to the street, the Triad member's body underneath his, breaking his fall.

She darted through the kitchen doors and fled down the service stairs to the ground floor. She pushed open the emergency exit and found herself on the sidewalk, only a few yards from where Luke had made his escape. He had just rolled off the dead man and was catching his breath when he spotted Tatum standing on the sidewalk.

The police were out in full force and had spotted him dive through the glass. Thinking he was one of the culprits, they yelled at him to stop, but he jumped to his feet and ran in Tatum's direction, grabbing her hand as they dodged their way through the pedestrian traffic. They heard more gunfire as they ran in the opposite direction, two uniformed policemen chasing them. When Luke spotted an opening, he ran up to a silver sedan and opened the door, pulling the driver out onto the street. Tatum quickly climbed over the driver's seat, and Luke got in behind her, pulling the door shut and slamming the car into reverse.

"Hey! What are you doing?" the man screamed at them, but Luke paid him no mind.

He backed to the intersection where he whipped the car around, threw it into "drive" and sped away down the street. Tatum got a glance of the man screaming at the officers who had been chasing them on foot. She did not say a word, though, and Luke drove a few blocks before he squealed to a stop in front of a department store. They both jumped out, and he quickly hailed a cab.

Tatum scooted over in the seat, and Luke climbed in, talking to the cabbie as he pulled his door shut. "Head downtown. I'll give you an address in a minute."

The cabbie accelerated, and soon their taxi was lost in a sea of yellow cabs. Tatum looked over at Luke. She felt the adrenaline beginning to ebb from her system, and she pulled her thin jacket tighter around her. She could already feel the tremors in her large muscles and could only pray that she did not actually go into shock.

Luke stared out the window, lost in his own thoughts. He had told Mei what to do if they were separated, but he had hoped that would not end up as the situation. He felt he had failed her and hoped that Quan or Han Jiao would not harm her. He felt a prick behind his eyelids and sniffed. "Fuck," he muttered, more worried for Mei than he was for himself. He could not accept that he had saved her from the Russians only to have her murdered by her own people. "Shit," he said, kicking the floorboard. Suddenly, he noticed Tatum shivering. "You okay?" he asked.

She could only nod her head jerkily. If she opened her mouth to answer, her teeth would begin to shatter uncontrollably.

Luke wrapped his arm around her shaking shoulders and pulled her into his side. She immediately slipped her arms around his waist and clung to him. His warmth and familiar scent soothed her, and she finally stopped shaking long enough to tell him, "I'm a-all right. It's j-just the a-adrenaline crashing."

He nodded and rested his chin on the top of her head. He breathed slowly, trying to soothe her the only way he knew how. At that moment, he realized that Tatum had never seen violence firsthand. She had only ever been exposed to its aftermath.

He rubbed soothing circles on her arm and kissed her hair lightly. Her presence was a balm to his ragged soul, and he was so thankful that she had been spared and was safe in his arms. He made a resolution that when they were done with this mess, he would keep her in his arms for the rest of his life. He had made many mistakes with Annie, and he could barely believe that he might have been gifted with a second chance. He was determined to not fuck it up.

His mind continued to race with plans and ideas on what he needed to do next. He was pulled from his thoughts when their driver asked him, "Hey, buddy, you wanna give me an address?"

Luke pulled out the wallet he had taken from one of the men on the train and looked at his name. "In a minute, just hold on," he instructed. He then pulled out the cell phone he had taken, as well, and began scrolling through the dead man's contact list. He knew Docheski was behind the attempted kidnapping of Mei, so he decided to start there. He pulled up the number of Docheski's son, Vassily, and placed the call.

"Who's this?" Vassily Docheski asked in Russian.

Luke answered him in fluent Russian, surprising Tatum. "Who do you think? It's Piotor. Don't you have me in your phone?"

"Piotor? Police reports said you were found on the subway with—"

"Police reports were wrong," he interrupted. "The others got…" He rolled down his window and held the phone out in the wind.

"What's that?" Vassily demanded.

"Sorry, bad connection. I got the number."

"You what?" Vassily asked, surprised.

Luke reaffirmed what he had said.

Vassily responded, "Go ahead, give it to me."

"Are you crazy?" Luke asked, still in Russian. "It's on a piece of paper a kilometer long. Where are you?" He heard Vassily hesitate and mumble something to whomever he was with.

"All right, Piotor," he finally replied. "Now's your chance to be a hero. Mamoschka's. Be here soon."

Luke smiled grimly. "I'll be there." He disconnected.

"Where are we going?" Tatum asked quietly.

He pulled her closer. "We're going to get Mei back and take care of these fuckers, once and for all."

* * *

**End Notes: So, I'm curious… Are you reading this because you are a **_**Safe**_** fan or a Jason Statham fan? Do you know of any other good fanfic based on any other Statham movies? I finally got to watch **_**The**__**Mechanic**_**, and it may now be my favorite of his movies! I would love to find some good fanfic with his characters, so I would love some recommendations!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thank you for coming on this journey with me. I hope you all are enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it! I am still on the search for some good Jason Statham fanfics, but I am coming up dreadfully short. I guess I'll have to write some others to fill my own twisted desires! Any thoughts on characters/movies you'd like to read about?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own… You know the drill.**

* * *

Captain Wolf stood in the foyer of the mansion where the mayor lived during his term of the city's highest public office. He stood silently and erectly, gritting his teeth and ignoring the multitude of people who scurried about. He had been summoned to answer for the outlandish events of the day, like a child called to the principal's office for misbehaving. He seethed, recalling how good life had been before…_him_. Before Luke Wright had grown a conscience, Wolf had been on top of the world. Then, the golden boy had tattled on all of them, and he and his guys had been treated like dog shit that was stuck to the bottom of His Honor's shoes. Of course, Tremello had not been Mayor then. He had been Police Commissioner Tremello, whom Wolf had made look good with his successful efforts to clean up the city of organized crime.

Oh, how quickly Tremello had forgotten all he had done. And it pissed him off to no end.

But he straightened up when Tremello walked into the room. He did not want his cool façade to slip, but he was determined to put the mayor in his place. Tremello motioned for him to walk with him, and he immediately fell into step beside him.

"He's here. Luke Wright is back in the city. In my city!" Tremello said, jumping right into the thick of it.

"Actually, he's been back for a while," Wolf clarified, wanting to let the mayor know that Wright had been under his nose for much longer than a few days, and he had missed it – that he was not as perfect as he liked to believe nor was Wolf as incompetent as the mayor enjoying insinuating.

Tremello looked over at him. "A while? What's a while?"

"Maybe a year. It's hard to say." Did he forget that Wright had disappeared after his wife was murdered by the Russians? How the hell was he supposed to know? It was not as if Luke checked in with him just to say hello.

As they continued down the grand hall, an aide walked by them, his cell phone ringing continuously. "Turn that goddamn thing off," the mayor directed impatiently. He walked into his personal office and shooed the few aides that were in the room out. "Alex," he said, looking at Alex Rosen, a silent communique passing between them.

Alex nodded. "Guys," he said, leading the other men out of the room and closing the door behind him. He knew Danny would fill him in later.

Tremello turned to face the police captain. "What's going on, Wolf? And how's Luke Wright involved in it?"

Wolf squared his shoulders. "I figured I might ask you the same question," he said. If he was going to go to battle with Wright, he needed all of the cards on the table, and he wanted to let the mayor know that he was aware that Tremello was as dirty as the rest of them.

Tremello scoffed. "Don't try to game me. You're nothing but a pawn, playing on a board so big you can't even see the edge. That's all you've ever been." He absentmindedly splashed scotch into a cut crystal tumbler.

Wolf bristled. He hated being reminded that he was nothing but a peon in the political hierarchy. "I knew about Luke Wright, which is more than you can say until five minutes ago."

The mayor smiled grimly. "What you know about Luke Wright rates less than a paragraph in a very fat book. After the towers fell," he began to explain, "when our manpower was spread out tracking terrorist activity, _I_ was the one who formed the special task force to deal with the crime that was filling the gap. And don't you ever fucking forget that _I_ was the one who put _you_ in charge."

Wolf stared at him stonily. "I didn't forget. My work _made_ you Mayor." He refused to stand there and allow Tremello to take all of the credit.

"_Your_ work? You think Luke was just one of your cops? When I put together your team, I knew it needed an edge no ordinary detectives could give me. Something surgical." He settled comfortably onto a couch and sipped his drink, enjoying the power he felt in the moment. He enjoyed putting Wolf in his place.

"I called friends in places buried so deep they don't officially exist. They were sympathetic. A week later, they sent Luke Wright.

"Those wise guys who vanished over the last seven years, you think that was internecine war? Those coke kings you found in the gutter in Harlem, Freddy Petrovich in Brooklyn, Tommy Lau in Chinatown. Luke Wright is a ghost…a very deadly ghost." He downed his scotch.

"And it worked like a charm, too. Then you dicks had to get greedy and pad your pockets. Luke's a killer, but he's an honest one. When he threatened to take the whole thing to IA, it took some people with a lot of bronze stuck to their pajamas to talk him off the ledge."

Wolf felt his face heat up with indignation. "Yeah, my team gets dismantled, we're peons again," he replies bitterly. "But if Luke Wright's so connected, how does he wind up in Jersey, cage fighting on the B circuit?" He felt oddly triumphant at pointing out Wright's fall from grace and subsequent failure.

"Do I look like a shrink?" Tremello asked sarcastically. He quickly stood up and walked over to his desk. "Get everybody on this. Once Luke Wright gets on a roll, there's only one man in this city who can take him on one-on-one."

As if on cue, Alex Rosen opened the door and stuck his head into the office. "Excuse me. I know this is a closed door, but there was just a major gun battle downtown at a hotel. The media's going nuts. You're gonna need to make a statement." He then shut the door behind him, disappearing as quickly and silently as he had appeared.

Wolf dropped another bomb. "Han Jiao is in the city, also. He gave this little Chinese girl something. I don't know what. Luke Wright grabbed her before I could."

"What?" the mayor spluttered.

"I said Luke Wright—"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time," Tremello interrupted. He paused for a moment, thinking quickly. "Close every exit out of Manhattan. Make sure that neither Wright nor the girl gets away, you get Commissioner. Let them go, you get a shovel to dig your own grave. That girl does not leave this city."

Wolf stared after his boss as he abruptly left to go address the media, a finger of fear touching him. Damn Luke Wright to hell… What he had not finished a year ago, Wolf was afraid Wright would complete that night. He only hoped he would still be left standing with his career intact.

xXx

"Stop right here," Luke directed the cabbie as they pulled to the curb a block away from Mamoschka's. He paid and helped Tatum out of the car, then looked around, scoping out the front of the building. He took her hand and walked nonchalantly toward the restaurant, staring down the alley that led to the rear of the building.

"What are you gonna do?" Tatum asked him quietly.

He sighed. "We're going to go in together. They won't be suspicious of a man and woman coming in for dinner or a drink. When I tell you to, I want you to come back outside and wait down the alley. Stay in the shadows so no one sees you. I'll come get you when I'm done."

She nodded. As a physician, she was not accustomed to taking orders, but she was so far out of her element that she just nodded dumbly, following his instructions without question. Her mouth was so dry, her tongue kept sticking to the roof of her mouth.

Luke tucked her arm in his and strolled through the doorway and up to the hostess, as if he had not a care in the world and was not about to wreak havoc in this family restaurant that was basically a front for the Russian mafia.

"Good evening," the hostess greeted pleasantly.

"Good evening," Luke replied, playing the part flawlessly.

"Will you be joining us for dinner tonight?"

Luke pasted on a chagrined expression. "We don't have a reservation or anything…" He smiled at her, laying on the charm. Tatum felt the urge to roll her eyes, and then almost burst into hysterical laughter at the hilarity of the situation, but squashed it just in time.

The hostess smiled into Luke's magnetic eyes. "That's okay," she said smoothly. "It won't be easy tonight, but we should be able to find you something." She blatantly ignored Tatum, which made her almost giggle again.

Luke smiled at the hostess again but was covertly scanning the room. He knew what Vassily Docheski looked like, and he was able to spot his goons easily. Their expressions and demeanor gave them away effortlessly. He heard the hostess droning on about where she could seat him and his date, but he paid her no mind. He was memorizing the layout. He wanted as few civilian casualties as possible.

"Sir, do you have a preference? Sir?" the hostess asked again, bringing his attention back to her.

He smiled at her again, not wanting to raise her suspicions. "I think we'll just get a drink at the bar."

She nodded and turned her attention elsewhere. Clearly, he was not interested in her.

Luke turned back to Tatum and led her over toward the door. He leaned down and said to her softly, "I want you to give me a kiss, turn around, and walk out of here. Go to the alley, and wait for me. And whatever you hear, don't come back in here. Just act like you forgot something outside."

Tatum stared up into his murky green gaze and felt her heart clench. She prayed that he would come out of yet another battle unscathed. "Okay," she whispered and leaned up on her toes to press her lips against his. She pulled quickly away, gave him another long look, and walked slowly out of the door, digging in her purse as if she had indeed forgotten something.

Luke watched her go, then sauntered over to the bar, stopping beside one of Docheski's henchmen. He got the bartender's attention. "Give me a White Russian, please, and a fork."

"A fork?" the bartender asked, clarifying the odd request.

"One of those," Luke said, pointing out a regular dinner fork in a caddy.

The bartender looked at him oddly and placed the utensil on the bar. Luke leaned against the bar and said to the man beside him in Russian, "I never know what to say in these moments."

The man threw his shot back and replied, "What moments?"

Luke continued to stare straight ahead. "The ones before I kill somebody." Then, before the man could blink, he had grabbed the fork and thrust it into the man's throat, puncturing the jugular vein. He pulled the man down onto the bar and pulled his gun out, firing rapidly at the first man to respond. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Vassily duck under his table. Luke jumped over the table directly in front of him and kept firing, killing several more men. He then sailed through the air, landing on the table and knocking it over. Standing quickly, he pushed the table up against the two men who had been underneath it – Vassily and another man – and fired several shots into Vassily's friend through the tabletop.

He then knocked Docheski on the temple with the barrel of the gun, knocking him senseless and oblivious to the screams of the people around them. Luke turned when a wine bottle beside his head exploded, and he shot the bartender, who was stupid enough to try shooting at him. Before Vassily could get away, Luke had him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him into the kitchen.

For good measure – and to show the employees he was not bluffing – Luke knocked him into the wall, pulling him around and into some shelves, breaking a plethora of china dishes and causing a horrendous racket. He kept Vassily from falling face first to the floor and stopped to look around at the few workers who were still visible.

"What does he drive, and where is it parked?" he demanded.

Everyone just stared at him dumbly.

He gritted his teeth and fired a bullet into a shelf only a few feet from the cook's head. The man began to shake and appeared as if he might faint. "A-a silver SUV…in the alley outside," he said jerkily. Luke thought the man might have actually pissed his pants.

Luke dragged him out of the back door and bashed his face against the side of the car. He then grabbed a large roll of Duct tape and taped Vassily's hands and feet together. Before he tossed him into his own trunk, though, he pulled Vassily's cell phone out of his jacket pocket. He then slammed the trunk closed and leaned against the car, taking a deep breath.

"Tatum?" he called out softly. He immediately heard scuffling feet headed toward him.

"Luke?" she called, then spotted him leaning against a shiny Audi SUV. "Are you okay?"

He nodded and smiled at her. "I'm fine, but we better get out of here before more of the bastards show up."

She climbed into the passenger seat. "Whose car is this?"

He chuckled. "Vassily Docheski's."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, my God…"

Luke shrugged. "It's not like I'm stealing it. He's in the car."

Tatum quickly looked in the backseat and raised her eyebrows in Luke's direction.

"Trunk," he explained, pulling out onto the street and heading east.

"Now what?" she asked, almost dreading the answer.

He grinned grimly. "Now we're gonna get some answers."

They drove in silence for several minutes, and Tatum's heart dropped to her stomach when Luke reached over and threaded his fingers through hers on the center console. She gazed up at his profile that was dimly illuminated by the cool interior lights of the car.

Tatum was not sure what she felt for Luke. If she just glanced at her emotions, she would swear she was in love with him. But her rational mind told her that was impossible, that she did not know him well enough to be in love with him. She thought of how she would feel if something happened to him tonight to take him away from her again. Would she be able to go on as if nothing had happened? She did not believe so.

She had always felt more for him than their professional relationship should have allowed. But when they had worked together, he had been married, and one thing she was not was a home wrecker. She had only allowed herself to entertain fantasies of her and Luke in the dark secret of her bedroom when she could not sleep. She had never acted on it. Ever.

But now, he was here with her, holding her hand in a dark car while they raced against time to save a young girl they both had just met. He had kissed her gently a couple of times and had held her close in the taxi. She had felt his warmth, his power, his strength. He had shared them with her. He was no longer married, and she was not tied to anyone, except the dead.

Did she love him? She thought she did, regardless of what her rational thoughts told her. She had only been in love once, when she had been in undergrad school. But he had broken her heart, and she had avoided those deep feelings since, allowing her analytical side to control her feelings. But now, looking over at Luke's face under the passing streetlamps, she knew her heart was already lost. She would follow him anywhere. She was already in deep, and she did not know if she would survive if something happened to him. She had already suffered his death once; she did not think she could do so again.

* * *

**End Notes: Leave me some love… I know you want to!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I love to read your comments; they make me smile! I agree that there just isn't enough good JS fanfic out there. I keep looking, hoping that will change, but so far, it hasn't. And Brina, I agree about the basketball court scene… *die* 88dragon06, I loved The Italian Job! Jason was so cute in it… Of course, I think he's awesome in anything! Thanks again for your reviews! They make my day!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own and the only thing I get from doing this is warm fuzzies! Oh, and the Chinatown club that is mentioned was made up, I have no idea if such a club exists. If so, it's purely coincidence and I'm sure there are no illegal activities going on there.**

**Luke: *faints dramatically with hunger in the corner, peeking one eye open to make sure he's seen***

**Me: *sigh* Just hang on, next chapter, you get to eat…**

**Luke: About time. I'm dying here…**

**Me: *grins* Don't worry; I know CPR. If you do, I'll give you mouth to mouth, hehe…**

**Luke: *rolls eyes***

* * *

Tatum was pulled from her thoughts as Luke turned the SUV onto an unmarked road just outside the city limits. She sat in the leather-stitched seat silently and waited patiently for Luke to explain their next move. She oddly thought of Charlie and wondered if he had been going to the clinic every day for his medication. She hoped that she had seen him in time to save his feet. Had that just been a few days ago? Her mind then jumped to Lindsey Martin, the young teenager she had posted earlier in the day…or was it yesterday? She pressed her fingertips to her eyes, trying to relieve some of the strain.

"You all right?" Luke asked her quietly as he turned the ignition off. He reached over and smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear.

She nodded. "I guess so. Has your life always been this dangerous?"

He smiled grimly. "Pretty much."

She shook her head. "Now what?"

"Information," he replied and pulled Vassily's cell phone out of his inner jacket pocket. He scrolled through the contact list, clicked on Emile Docheski's personal cell phone number, and plugged it into the hands-free system in the car. He sat quietly as the line connected.

Docheski answered, his voice coming through the speakers. "Vassily."

"Not even close," Luke said in a low voice.

Docheski paused. "Who is this?" Luke and Tatum could hear his confusion.

"The guy who's been killing your boys all night, Emile. The guy who has your son tied up in a very dark place. Now here's what I want…"

Docheski interrupted him. "Do you think I give a shit about what you want? You think you can blackmail me because you have Vassily? Kill him and go to hell!"

Tatum almost audibly gasped at the cruelty this father was implying that he was willing and able to inflict upon his own son…that he was willing to give him up to whatever fate – and torture – his captor had planned for him.

"Oh, I'm going to hell, all right. I'm not gonna kill your boy. I'm gonna keep him around…like a pet. A very badly treated pet. I'm gonna do things to him that will make me ashamed to look in the mirror afterward, but I will do them."

Tatum shivered at the cold, ruthless tone of his voice. If she did not know him, she would have been terrified of him in that moment.

"Vassily's gonna tell me everything he knows about your operation."

"And then what you gonna do? Tell the police? You want me to laugh?" he asked scathingly.

Luke smiled. "Who said anything about the police? I'm gonna share the information with the competition – the ones I haven't already killed. Anything they don't take from you, I will. First, I'm gonna take your trophy wife. Then, I'm gonna take your trophy children. I'm gonna leave you with nothing. When I'm done, you won't even be a memory of a memory, but that doesn't have to happen."

Tatum stared up at his profile, praying he was bluffing. While she had no qualms of him killing Docheski, she could not stomach the idea of him hurting an innocent woman and children. Then, she remembered that Docheski had ordered the hit on Annie and wondered if Luke was hoping to repay him in kind. She crossed her fingers that he was only misleading Docheski on the lengths he was willing to go to.

Docheski paused. "What do you want?" he asked, this time in a more defeated tone.

"I want to know what's in the safe."

"What safe?"

"The safe the girl gave me the combination to. That safe."

"Thirty million dollars."

Tatum felt her head spin.

Luke paused for a nanosecond, and then continued. "The kid was on her way to get a second number. What's in the second safe?"

"Something worth thirty million dollars."

"To whom?"

"No idea."

Tatum thought she saw Luke roll his eyes.

"That's because you're only half smart, Emile." He bit his lip for a moment, thinking. "So, here's the deal. You tell me where the first safe is, I take the money, and let your boy go. Lie to me, and your world ends."

"Idiot!" Emile spat. "I know when a man is working alone, and you are about as alone as one can be. You need a small army to get near that safe! The kind of army _I_ have."

"_Had_," Luke corrected. "It's been shrinking by the minute. Last chance before I hang up and go to work on your son."

Emile hesitated. "You will regret this," he warned.

Luke shrugged. "Yeah, well, maybe so, but maybe not."

"The Flaming Dragon," he spat.

Tatum was stunned. She knew where The Flaming Dragon was located. She had always suspected that it was owned by the Triads, but now she knew for sure. It was right in the center of Chinatown and was always packed with a crowd.

"Anything else you want to tell me…help make it a bit easier on little Vassily?"

"I told you what you wanted to know. Now, hopefully, you'll die before this night is over!"

Luke surprised Tatum by laughing. "I might, but you'd better hope not – for Vassily's sake. You better pray that I live through the night, or your son will join me in hell."

Tatum could hear Docheski pacing. "I've told you all I know."

"And once I have the money, I'll make sure your precious son is delivered back to you. I'll be in touch." He disconnected the call and looked over at Tatum.

He wished he had not dragged her into this whole mess. Her lips were pale, her eyes too big for her face. She looked scared. He took her hand between both of his and raised it to his mouth, blowing hot air over her cold fingers, trying to infuse some warmth back into her skin.

"Tate, don't worry," he said in a low voice, trying to soothe her frazzled nerves. "You're gonna be fine."

She took him by surprise when she glared at him, her grey eyes sparking back to life. "I'm not worried about me, dummy. I'm worried about you! Docheski basically said you were gonna die tonight, and you fucking agreed with him!" She huffed and pulled her hand from his.

"No, I didn't. I just said that maybe I would. I couldn't let him get to me, Tate. I had to at least make him think that I didn't care. He needed to know that I wouldn't back off, no matter what he said – that I'm the one in control now."

She turned her back to him and stared out the window at the lights of the Brooklyn Bridge. "Sure, whatever. And I guess you don't give a shit about how I'll feel if something happens to you… That I'll be able to just go back to my life…"

Luke dug his fingers into her hair and wrapped them around the back of her head, pulling her around to face him. He stared into her indignant gaze for only a few seconds before he swooped down and pressed his lips hard against hers.

Tatum was shocked. One minute, she was yelling at him, then the next, he had taken control again and was kissing her senseless. Oh, he was _so_ good at it, too. Every nerve ending in her body seemed to waken from a deep sleep, and electrical impulses began zinging their way through her nervous system. It had been so long since she had felt like this… As if they had a mind of their own, her hands slid up his arms and wrapped around his neck, clutching his face to hers. She parted her lips, inviting him in, and he needed no second invitation.

Luke was not sure what had possessed him to claim her lips, but he felt no regret. If he did die that night, then he was not going to his grave without finally tasting what had always been forbidden fruit to him. He shivered when her fingertips grazed the nape of his neck then tightened around him, holding him to her. He smiled when he felt her sigh, and he pulled back slightly.

"Do I need to apologize?" he asked with a grin.

She looked up into his eyes. "Yes."

He felt as if he had just been punched in the gut. "Oh… Oh, well… I'm sorry…" He started to pull away, but Tatum tightened her grip on him.

"You need to apologize for not doing that sooner," she teased him.

Luke laughed shakily. "Damn, you scared the shit out of me."

She smiled, running her fingers over his rough stubble. "I couldn't resist."

"Neither can I," he said softly and pressed his lips against hers again, heady on her taste and fragrance. He felt as if he were drowning in a fine wine.

Several thumps suddenly came from the trunk, causing them to pull away from each other. "Fuck," Luke swore, suddenly back in the moment and remembering that he had a crime lord's son in the trunk of his stolen car.

Tatum traced his jaw with her finger. "Go on; let's take care of this, so we can get Mei and go home."

He kissed her quickly once more, and then opened his door. Tatum followed him around to the rear of the car and held her breath as he opened the trunk.

Vassily Docheski was a pitiful excuse for a human being, and now, he resembled what he was. He peered up at them through swollen eyes, dried blood caked under his nostrils. However, he had not lost his contempt for Luke.

"You going to kill me, garbage man?" he asked, his Russian accent thick.

Luke did not reply.

"You could have taken us out that day, couldn't you? But you just sat there. Let us ruin you. Let us make you nothing. I guess finding out about that safe gave you new motivation, eh, garbage man?"

Tatum froze when she realized he was referring to the day Annie was murdered.

Luke was calmly loading bullets into the magazine of his pistol, finally glancing up. "I wouldn't spend my time talking, if I were you," he said coldly. "I'd spend it praying, that when this is all over, that little girl is still alive." He then picked up a large roll of duct tape and wrapped it twice around Vassily's mouth and head. Tatum knew it would hurt like a bitch when it came off.

Vassily's breathing increased, and he almost choked on his own saliva. He looked up at Tatum, looking for some mercy, but he saw nothing in her expression that made him think she would intercede on his behalf.

"Pray," Luke reminded him then slammed the lid down.

xXx

Mei stared out the window at the passing lights. There were always lights in New York City. And noise. It had been the hardest thing for her to become acclimated to when she first came to America. For the first three months she had been there, she had only slept in fits of an hour or so because the lights and noise had kept her awake.

She only partially listened to her father's end of the conversation he was having. She knew what it meant. Even after she had been kidnapped by the Russians and almost killed, Quan was still going to make her participate in whatever crime he was perpetrating. A real father would have held her and made her feel safe.

He hung up the phone, turned to look at her, and sighed. "I'm sorry I pointed a gun at you when the Russians attacked us, Mei. It was—"

"Business," she interrupted, "I know."

He nodded. "That's good. It's good that you understand. We're going to get this done. And you'll be safe with me and Uncle Han. I promise to be a better father to you than the one who left you and your mother. There's no one in the world who cares more about you. You know that, don't you?" He smiled at her.

Mei just stared at him, barely blinking. She heard what he said, but she did not believe him. She knew he was just trying to keep her calm, so he could finish his business. She honestly did not believe Quan wanted to kill her, but she knew that after all of the trouble she had caused, Uncle Han would most likely order her death. And she knew that, regardless of whether he actually cared for her or not – and she believed he did – Quan would not blink when pulling the trigger. He had been groomed for years by the Triads and knew to follow orders without question.

It would just be business.

She then thought of Luke and Tatum, who had risked everything to keep her safe. She mentally corrected her father when he reminded her she had no one else in the world but him. _No, Father, Luke and Tatum care about me… I think they even love me. They are the ones who care about me more than anyone else in the world. Even you. They both went against orders to save me, but you won't do that._

She allowed herself to daydream about the three of them living together, happily ever after. She had loved her mother dearly, and her death had been the most painful thing she had ever gone through. But now, she imagined Tatum as her new mother, picking her up from school, cooking dinner every night. She thought of Luke coming home after work and kissing them both, telling them how he had missed _his girls_. They would sit around a small table and eat dinner together, laughing with each other. Then she would do her homework while Tatum washed the dishes, and Luke stood by the sink, telling her about his day. They would all snuggle together on the couch and watch some silly sitcom, and then Tatum would comb Mei's hair before they both tucked her into bed, kissing her good night.

She sighed. It was just a fairy tale. She only prayed that Luke had survived, and that he was still trying to get her back…that he and Tatum were thinking of her just as she was thinking of them.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Well, here is the next chapter! I hope you enjoy it… I am not sure how I feel about it; I hope it isn't redundant. Also, I changed the name of the Chinatown casino. If you get why, let me know in a review! Anyone who does gets a bite of Luke's sandwich!**

**Luke: Hey! *chews loudly* Don't be offering up my food! I had to wait ten damn chapters for it!**

**Me: *Sighs* You didn't wait **_**ten**_** chapters. We're just now on chapter 9, and you **_**did**_** get to eat in chapter 2…**

**Luke: Well, I'm just gonna sit back and watch the ass kicking and enjoy my dinner, so don't mind me.**

**Me: All right, I gotta give you a disclaimer before you read this chapter so that you know that **_**Safe**_** does not belong to me, I am making no money from doing this, blah blah… Also, if you haven't read it yet, I posted a one-shot titled "Gobsmacked" from **_**The Mechanic**_** here on . Check it out if you have time. For those of you who've asked, yes, I am planning on writing more Jason Statham fics because I just adore him…**

**Luke: Who is this Jason Statham you keep talking about? Hell, I thought this story was about me!**

**Me: Yes, of course it is… So, without further adieu…**

* * *

Tatum stared up at Luke, an expression of defiance on her face. "No… I'm not leaving you! I thought we were in this together!"

Luke sighed and ran his fingers through her hair. "Tate, honey, please. I have to do this, and I can't have you anywhere around. I have to be able to concentrate. If you're anywhere close, I'll be worried more about you and then probably end up doing something stupid to get my ass killed."

She pressed her lips together. Finally, she spoke. "Fine, then! Go do your happy little gunfight with the assholes who've already betrayed you once. How could you possibly trust those bastards?"

He looked out of the window and clenched the phone in his hand, hating what he'd had to do. "I had no choice. I have to be able to get to that safe, and you know Han Jiao is gonna have it guarded like it's fucking Fort Knox. Plus, I know them. They're bastards…but greedy bastards. All I have to do is dangle that money in front of them like a carrot, and they'll do whatever I ask, just like Pavlov's dog. Wolf will make sure they do."

"Oh, so now you and Wolf are BFF's?" she asked resentfully.

"Wolf's the greediest of them all. He'll make sure they follow orders because five million each is gonna be more than he'll be able to turn down."

"Fine, whatever," she said, pulling her hand out of his. "Just don't get killed, okay? If I end up with you on my autopsy table tomorrow, I'll never speak to you again."

He laughed lightly and held his right hand up. "I swear to you, on pain of death, that I'll not get killed."

Tatum turned to him, her face full of worry. "Please, Luke… Now that I've found you again, I can't give you back up. It'll kill me."

Luke pulled her into his side and pressed kisses to the top of her head, his arm strong and steady around her. "Don't worry. I have no intention of leaving you, ever again."

She looked up at him and pressed her mouth to his, and they sealed their vows to each other. Finally, she sighed and pulled away. "Where do you want me to go?"

He looked around and saw a small bookstore on a corner a block away. He nodded toward it. "There. You'll be far enough away that you'll be safe, and no one will see you and associate you with me."

"I still don't see wh—"

"Because," he cut her off, "if something _does_ go wrong, I don't want you to be connected to me at all. For your safety. Not just from Docheski, but from the police, the mayor…everyone."

She nodded, understanding his reasons but still not liking them. "All right. What do I do when you come back out?"

He looked out of the windows, hoping the guys would not get there too early. "Stay there. I'll have Wolf with me, and he and I will leave the scene together. You know the cops will show up pretty quickly after we go in there, and he'll be able to get me out without attracting attention. I'll deal with him, and then I'll call you and have you meet me with the car."

"What about the others?"

He paused. "I've got that taken care of," he replied, a strange tone to his voice.

"Okay," she said, her eyes shining in the darkness. "Take care of yourself, Luke."

He pulled her in, needing to taste her again before he let her go. He was confident enough in his skills to not worry about dying, but he was human. Things could go wrong. _Lord, _he prayed, _I know I have not been a good person. I've done things I shouldn't have done. But please, bring her back to me when this is over..._

Tatum kissed him and then pulled back. "Okay," she said, her voice shaky. "Call me." She grinned, trying not to show her worry.

"You bet."

She looked at him one last time and then headed off down the street. She entered the antique bookstore and greeted the little wizened woman who was perched on a stool behind a small counter.

"Can I help you?" she said, her voice as thin as her skin.

Tatum smiled at her, trying to act normal, and walked over to a shelf with old medical volumes. "No, thank you. I'm just browsing."

The little woman nodded and went back to her black and white television she had on the counter. Tatum picked up one book after another, flipping through yellowed pages and trying her best to lose herself in the old manuscripts, but she kept one ear tuned for gunfire.

xXx

Luke stood out on the street, leaning up against the silver Audi SUV as if he had not a care in the world. He looked at the crowd lined up, waiting to gain entrance to The Flaming Dragon. He hoped civilian casualties would be avoided, but he knew how the Triads worked. They would not hesitate to slaughter hundreds of innocent people if it meant protecting their material objects.

Lights reflected on his car, and he turned to see an unmarked police car pull up behind where he was parked. He walked to the back of his car to greet them. "Well, the gang's all here. Almost. Reddick get to call in sick?"

Kolfax glared at him. "He's in the hospital, dickhead. You broke his trachea."

Luke turned to look at the crowd, a smirk on his face. "I didn't know a trachea could break. I hope they can fix it," he said lightly.

"Yeah? How about I fix you, you—" He was unable to finish his sentence as Mears pulled him back, trying to get him to calm down.

Captain Wolf walked up on the scene and looked at Luke grimly. "Been a while, Luke. Can't say I've missed you."

Luke nodded in greeting, a small smile on his face.

"So," Wolf said, "let's get down to business…"

"Did you bring what I asked for?" Luke questioned seriously.

Wolf held up a brown paper package and handed it over to him.

Luke took the package, a small grin on his face. "Toscani's."

"Where else?" Wolf asked.

Luke pulled a paper wrapped object from the brown wrapping and walked to the back of his car, the other detectives all looking at him and wondering what their captain had brought to him. They all stood around, watching as he unwrapped a monstrous sandwich and took a huge bite.

"Mmmm," he said appreciatively. "That's good."

He continued to eat, his expression light and open, while his ex-colleagues stared at him and fidgeted on their feet. He was enjoying the psychological game. Luke turned to look at Wolf. "Been in restaurants all night. All I got served was lead." He stopped and looked around at them all. "Anyone got a light?"

Kolfax could take no more. "You know what?" he spat. "Screw this! Look, Cap, you asked us to come here, so we came. But I ain't gonna sit here and listen to this scumbag's big mouth."

Wolf handed a silver lighter to Luke. "Shut up, Kolfax."

He took the lighter and grinned. "Still haven't quit, huh?" He nodded at Wolf. He then nonchalantly pulled out the paper that Mei had written the combination on, shook it open, and held the flame to the corner, watching as the flame took hold of the paper and quickly engulfed it.

"Hey, hey," Mears said, "what the hell is that?"

Luke continued to watch the paper burn. "Combination to a safe with thirty million bucks in it."

Kolfax spoke up quickly. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa… What the hell, you filthy piece of shit?"

Luke looked up at him, his face serious. "The only place it exists now is here," he said, pointing to his head. "Remember that the next time your little trigger finger gets itchy."

"Why would Han Jiao stash it right in the middle of Chinatown's busiest gambling den?" Benoit asked.

"Because of sleaze-bucket cops like you, Benoit, who collect off of Chinatown's busiest gambling den. Where else would he have surrounded it with dozens of armed men without attracting police attention?"

Mears interrupted. "Captain, how do we know this son of a bitch is on the level, huh? He's a bum. Where do you get your information?"

Luke did not reply. Instead, he merely slid back the cargo cover in the trunk of the SUV to reveal Vassily Docheski, who was still bound and gagged. "There's an exchange happening tonight. The Triad half of the deal is in a safe in the casino. No way I could get to it on my own, so I called on you. My old pals. Thirty million split six ways is still a lot of money."

The men all looked silently at each other. "We're risking a lot, Captain," Lasky interjected. "You especially. Everyone knows you got a bright future."

"Promised by who? His Honor?" Luke asked. "What carrot is he teasing you with, Wolf? He's gonna let you off the street knowing what you know now?"

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Kolfax asked.

"Meaning his second term is gonna come to an end, and his hold on the city goes poof! Just like that, he's Joe Citizen again," Wolf said hastily. "Thirty million would be a nice retirement package."

"What's he giving the Chinks?" Benoit asked.

"If I knew that, I wouldn't be standing here with you assholes, would I?" Luke asked sarcastically.

Wolf sighed. "Bright future, huh?"

Luke played into it. "Big headlines. 'Hero cops take down New York City's biggest underground gambling operation.' Five million bucks a piece that no one will ever know about, just to give it that extra sweet taste."

The detectives all looked at each other silently for a few moments before each one of them nodded.

"Okay, we're in," Wolf said, speaking for his men. They then opened up their trunks and began putting on Kevlar vests and loading both handguns and rifles, sticking extra ammunition in their pockets. Wolf put some C-4 in a duffle bag and zipped it shut.

"All right," he said. "Who's been in there?"

No one spoke up.

"For Christ's sake, who's been in there?" he asked, frustrated.

"Me, Cap…" They all raised their hands.

He pointed at Kolfax and Benoit. "You two, you're on point. The place is packed with civilians, so exercise some judgment."

"Remember I've got the combination," Luke reminded them. "You want that money, watch my back."

They all remained silent and fell into a formation, crossing the street and armed to the teeth with Benoit and Kolfax leading the way, Luke right behind them.

A bouncer met them at the door. "Where you going?" he asked. Kolfax hit him in the face with the butt of his gun, and the man went down to the ground. People in the line screamed, but the men paid them no mind. They marched into the club.

The club looked like a moving sea of humanity with men and woman dancing. The place was so packed, they reminded Luke of sardines packed into a tin. Wolf decided to clear them out, so he raised his pistol into the air and fired two shots.

The result was pandemonium while dancers screamed, and they all tried to run toward the door, causing nothing but chaos. But it served Wolf's purpose as they were now able to walk directly to the other side of the room.

Before they had taken ten steps, however, a bartender pulled a semiautomatic machine gun from under the bar to fire, but Lasky and Benoit were faster and shot him before he could get a round off. More Chinese men began firing upon the group, but the detectives were faster and were able to kill the Triads before they were shot themselves. Luke just walked in the midst of them, protected for the moment, a small smirk on his face.

Mears was the first to go down, but the impact was absorbed by his Kevlar vest. Wolf caught him from behind and killed the one who had fired upon them.

"Stay down," Wolf said to him and pulled him into a sheltered alcove.

Kolfax cleared more of the way with his rifle. "This way. Let's go," he shouted.

They shot a man who was guarding the stairs to the basement, and then the group headed toward the doorway, guns drawn. One man had gotten away from them, though, and had run down the stairs ahead of them, shouting warnings in Chinese to the casino patrons.

The card dealers all pulled guns from under their tables, and the detectives spread out slightly to cover Luke. He followed them into the room, his pistol drawn, and fired several rounds calmly into two men who had been off to the side. He took cover behind a thick pillar while several Triads turned a roulette table over for shelter.

They cleared a path and Wolf said, "Go!" Kolfax took the lead and ducked through the opening.

Luke turned and saw a Chinese man start to pull a gun, so he hit him across the face with the butt of his pistol before kicking him in the chest to knock him into a table. He then picked up the machine gun the Triad had dropped and fired it into the roulette table, puncturing the wood and killing the men hiding there. He looked up just as Benoit walked through a doorway, his pistol down and was shot in the head by a Chinese man.

Wolf spotted another one who was firing on them, but Kolfax was clear. "Kolfax! Take him out!"

Luke continued through the room, mowing down more Chinese with his newly acquired weapon. He walked into a room with several men in it and had to quickly take them out, hand-to-hand. He saw one of the men punching a panic button, which automatically shut the door to the safe room. He pistol-whipped the man before smashing a liquor bottle over his head.

By the time Wolf and the men had gotten to the door, the gate had locked. "Open it," Wolf shouted.

Kolfax took aim with his pistol and fired. The bullet broke the lock and then ricocheted, tearing through Kolfax's fingers of his left hand. Luke continued to clean up the last few Triads who were still alive, breaking bones before silently putting bullets into brains.

Kolfax was screaming in pain. "Oh, shit! I gotta get out of here!" He was holding his hand, trying to staunch the bleeding. "Oh! Oh, fuck! Fuck, Captain!"

Wolf looked around quickly, noticing the others' backs were turned. He coldly lifted his pistol and shot Kolfax through the head. He did not have time to deal with a screaming baby, but he could not let his men know what he had just done. The men all turned at the gunshot, and he turned swiftly and fired two shots into the body of a dead Triad who lay behind them, then began kicking him. "Goddammit! Shoot a man in the back, you son of a bitch!"

The men just all looked at him and each other, none wanting to voice what they really thought had happened.

Wolf pulled Kolfax's Kevlar vest off and handed it to Mears. "All right, Mears. Where're we going?"

Mears turned and pointed with his head. "This way."

While they all hated the death of their colleagues, each man was thinking that their deaths meant their portion had just grown exponentially. The four of them left – Luke, Mears, Wolf, and Lasky – headed down a green concrete corridor, blasting the few who tried to stop them. They went down some stairs and came to a steel reinforced door.

"The gates of paradise," Wolf said, already thinking of what he could do with that much money.

"Locked and bolted to sinners like us," Mears said.

"Yeah, well, let's not wait for an invitation." Wolf tossed the duffle bag filled with C-4 to Mears and watched as he and Lasky set the charges around the door. They took cover, and within a few seconds, the door was blown into the room, killing one who was inside the vault and setting off the sprinkler system. One man who was injured was reaching for his gun, but he never got the chance. They walked into the vault, shooting the man on their way in. They secured the room, and Luke walked in, his face grim.

Luke walked up to the safe and looked at it for a moment.

"All right, you bastard," Wolf said. "Get started."

Luke set his gun down with a flourish and turned to face them. "Here's how we do this. You put down your guns, I open the safe. You wanna shoot me, go ahead… Make your minds up quick, 'cause the real cops will be here soon."

No one said a word as they knew he was correct. They could not be caught in this room. They each pulled their guns from their holsters.

"On the floor," Luke directed.

They each slowly placed their guns on the wet concrete. Luke turned and walked to the safe. He gently placed his hand on the dial and began to spin, first right then left. He tried the handle, but it did not open.

"Come on, you son of a bitch. What are you trying to pull?" Mears sneered.

Luke spoke over his shoulder. "I got right-left switched. It's gonna open." He tried again, this time starting by turning left. He could feel the cold gazes of his comrades burning into his back. When he was to his last number, he suddenly grabbed his gun and turned, firing on all three men, two with fatal wounds. Wolf, however, he hit in the upper arm only.

"Fuck!" Wolf grunted, holding his bleeding arm.

Luke pulled him roughly to his feet. "You'll live," he said, his voice deadpan. He pushed Wolf toward the safe and pointed his gun at him. "Left twenty-six."

Wolf finished the combination and opened the door. His mouth went dry at the sight of thirty million dollars, all in cash. His head started to spin, but he was not sure if it was from blood loss, pain, or excitement.

Luke threw the now-empty duffle bags at him, and Wolf stuffed the cash into them. They zipped them closed and shut the safe, so the real cops, as Luke called them, would not have any idea of the prize they had just taken. They looked solemnly at each other and headed back toward the exit. They heard the sirens and police radios when they reached the ground floor. They did not stop to speak to anyone but just walked through the club and out of the door.

One policeman stopped them. "Captain Wolf, what the hell happened in there?"

Wolf kept walking. "What do you think happened, huh? We had a raid on the place go bad. We got dead cops, casualties… Get in there!" He waved the young man away and continued walking to his car.

Another police officer stopped him. "Captain Wolf, you need an ambulance."

"I need a fleet of ambulances, all right? Call it in, will ya?" he shouted. "I'll drive my own busted ass to the hospital."

Luke stayed on his heels, and they simultaneously opened the back doors and tossed the over-loaded duffle bags onto the seat. They then quickly got into the front seat, and Wolf started the car.

"Not bad," Luke said. "If you weren't such a double-dealing asshole, I could almost like you. Almost. Drive."

Wolf took off, and Luke directed him to an isolated area where his car would not be noticed. He then directed Wolf to get out of the car and wrapped his arms behind his back with duct tape. Wolf let out a grunt of pain.

"It's a scratch," Luke says scathingly. He then put a large piece over Wolf's mouth. "I'm not gonna kill you, but I didn't say I was putting you up at the Ritz." He then pushed him into the trunk and left the car parked in a deserted lot where he knew no one would bother it – or hear any sounds Wolf might make to attract attention. He grabbed the duffle bags out of the back and began the trek back to Chinatown, where he could pick up Tatum and they could go get Mei. He just prayed she was all right and that she knew he was doing all he could to get her back…that he had not given up on her.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out to you. Over the weekend, I discovered the obsession that is **_**The Walking Dead**_**… So, yeah, that was what I spent my New Year's holiday doing! So, without further ado…**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Safe**_** or Jason Statham, sadly. If I did, I would be doing much more enjoyable things with my time…**

* * *

Luke walked nonchalantly up to the Audi SUV and unlocked the doors, tossing the heavy duffel bags into the backseat. The area was still swarming with police and S.W.A.T. team members, easily identified by their black cargo pants and shirts with "POLICE" emblazoned on the back. He pointed the remote at the car and locked the doors. With all of the ongoing commotion, he did not believe anyone would be able to hear Vassily in the trunk – if he was stupid enough to attempt to get anyone's attention.

He ducked between curious bystanders and headed toward the bookstore he had left Tatum at. His heart stopped when he glanced around the small shop and did not see her mahogany hair. The bell above the door tinkled merrily, and it irritated him. Where was she?

He looked over at the small, elderly woman watching television behind the counter. "Excuse me," he said, not caring if he was interrupting _I Love Lucy_.

"Yes, how can I help you, young man?" she asked in a thin voice.

"I'm looking for a girl who was in here earlier…"

The woman smiled at him. "Don't worry, dear. She'll be right out."

He clenched his jaw. "Out from where?"

She gave him an exasperated look. "From the ladies' room…"

Luke felt chagrined when he saw the blush rise on her weathered cheeks. "Oh…" He suddenly realized she had grown up in a time where women went to "powder their noses," as if that lie kept any man from knowing what they were really doing, but he had not meant to embarrass her. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"What a sweet girl," the woman remarked. "Are you her husband?"

"No, I'm not her husband. Just a friend…"

She clucked her tongue. "Such a pity. You two would make a lovely couple."

He felt his chest swell with pride, and he grinned.

At that moment, the door to a back room opened, and Tatum came out, drying her hands on her pants. "Ma'am, I'm afraid you're out of paper towels." She looked up and saw Luke, and her face paled. "Luke…" she whispered, her tongue not working properly. She had been so afraid for him that she could hardly believe he was standing in front of her now.

Luke smiled at her. He wanted to take her into his arms and ravish her mouth with his own, but he had caused the elderly saleswoman enough embarrassment for one night. Instead, he held his hand out for Tatum to take. She did so without hesitation. "You ready?"

She nodded but then pulled her hand out of his. "Just a minute. I'm ready to checkout," she said to the woman.

The saleslady nodded and pulled a brown paper-wrapped package out from behind the counter. "That'll be two hundred forty-two dollars and seventeen cents."

Tatum looked at her surprised. "Are you sure? I know it's worth much more than that."

The lady gave her a large, toothy smile. "For you, dear, it's two hundred forty-two seventeen." She winked at Luke.

Tatum shook her head and pulled out her wallet. "All right… But here—" she pulled three one hundred-dollar bills out "—you keep the change."

The woman winked at her and put the bills into an ancient cash register. "You. You come back soon!"

Tatum smiled at her, and Luke picked up the package. "I certainly will. Thank you." They waved at the wizened old woman and walked out onto the street. Luke steered her toward their car.

"What the hell was that all about?" he asked, a grin on his face.

Tatum shook her head. "I found the most incredible book in there! But we'll talk about that later; just be careful with it." They quickly got into the car, and Luke pulled smoothly into traffic, heading away from the pulsating lights surrounding The Flaming Dragon. "So, what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" she asked quickly, trying to assess him from the passenger seat.

"I'm fine… I got the money."

Her mouth dropped open. "Y-You…did?"

He nodded. "Yeah. It's back there." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, and she turned in her seat to stare at the two duffel bags that were stuffed full. "You sound surprised. Don't tell me you doubted me," he teased.

"Oh, my God," she whispered. She was not sure how to describe the sensation of being in the presence of thirty million dollars. It was an overwhelming feeling. "Now what?"

Luke turned down a side street and pulled into an empty parking space. He looked over at her and put his finger to his lips before pressing a button on a different cell phone. Ringing filled the interior of the car.

The mayor's voice flowed through the speakers. "Wolf," he greeted.

"I have your money, Danny," Luke replied calmly.

"What?" Tremello said incredulously.

"You heard me," Luke said, his voice cold. "Thirty million, in five thousand and one thousand dollar bills. I wanna talk—"

"No, no. What you want to do is calm down, so we can talk like adults," the mayor interrupted.

"Shut it, Danny," Luke directed. "I wanna talk, but I don't want to talk to you. I wanna talk to your boyfriend."

Tremello remained silent for a few moments. "You don't want to do this, Luke."

Luke laughed softly. "You have no idea what I want to do. What's the number?"

He recited the number off, his voice shaking in rage. "Don't do anything stupid…"

Luke hung up on him and immediately dialed the number he had been given. Tatum sat quietly with her hands in her lap. She focused on her breathing – in and out, in and out – to calm her jittery nerves. She prayed that they were almost to the end of this nightmare and that within a few more hours, Mei would be back with them, safe and sound. She purposefully did not think any farther than that, however. She had no idea of what the future held with Luke, and she did not want to get herself worked up over it while he was on the phone tying up their loose ends.

The call connected. "This is Alex."

"It's been a while, Alex," Luke said in greeting.

"How'd you get this number?" he asked, an undertone of amusement and incredulity in his voice.

"Come on, Alex. Reach up the mayor's ass, there you are."

He laughed. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do, huh? Well, he's a better catch than Annie was, anyway. I never understood how you hooked up with a cow like that."

Tatum gasped in horror. What an egotistical asshole!

Luke just smiled grimly. "Yeah…it was never about her looks. It was her sense of humor."

"She's not so funny now, is she?" he asked smoothly, fake sympathy in his voice.

"No, she's not. Neither am I," Luke replied. "I have the money, Alex. And I had to kill a lot of people to get it, so listen up. You haven't made the combination exchange yet. What's in the other safe?"

She imagined that she heard Alex Rosen gritting his teeth over the phone. It made her strangely satisfied to know Luke had just pissed him off.

"A disk," he answered, all mocking gone from his voice. "Names, money trails… When our commanders sent the two of us to help Danny clean up the city, they attached a price. In exchange, Danny looked the other way while the assets seized from every group deemed a terrorist organization were funneled into their private accounts. It's amazing what people will let you get away with when their scared and wanna feel protected, huh?"

"Amazing how many scumbags there are out there waiting to take advantage of it," Luke retorted.

Alex laughed. "Like you didn't."

"I quit!"

"I bet that helps all those souls you sent to meet their maker without due process rest a whole lot easier! You thought you could atone by climbing into a cage and allowing yourself to get beaten to a pulp? Don't fucking preach at me, Luke! I'm getting _paid_ for services rendered."

"Right," Luke said. "You sell the disk to the Chinese, so they can blackmail our old honchos, take the thirty mil, and waltz off with Danny to a villa in the Bahamas."

"Bali, but whatever, right?" Alex said, arrogance thick in his tone. "So, now you know. Now what?"

"Now you're dealing with me."

"All right. I'm turning around."

"No you're not," Luke instructed.

"What are you talking about? You got the money; the Chinese have nothing I care about."

"No, they have something I do."

"What?" Alex asked impatiently.

"A young Chinese girl, around eleven years old. She'll be with the Triads. Bring her to me, safe and sound, and you'll get the money."

Alex hesitated. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Nope," Luke said calmly.

He sighed. "Fine. Then what?"

"Call me when you have her," Luke instructed and then disconnected.

Tatum looked at him, her gray eyes wide.

Luke ran his hands through her hair and pressed his lips to her hair. "Don't worry. Alex will get her."

"But how many Chinese will be there…?"

"Don't worry," he repeated cryptically. "Alex won't have any trouble."

She shivered at the thought and sent up another prayer that Mei would be safe.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Okay, so I am begging for your forgiveness for the delay in getting this chapter posted. I had it written several weeks ago and somehow ended up deleting the file without saving it. I was so disgusted with myself that it took me a while to get back into the groove. I hope you enjoy the recreation I've done… And I've added a bit of spice as my way of apology!**

* * *

Mei stood with Chang Quan, her adoptive father, under the bridge where they were to obtain the next piece of the puzzle she was carrying around in her head. She was so ready to get this business over with. She was not sure what would happen once she had given this man they were meeting the number – whether she would be killed or given another assignment – but she was tired of the game both sides were playing against each other. And she was not sure where the Russians fit into all of this or if she would have to deal with them again. She just knew she was tired of it all.

She did not look up as a lone car approached, its bright lights shining in her face. Quan put a hand on her left shoulder to guide her forward. _This is it, _she thought, wondering if her father would put a bullet in her brain once this was over. She really did not think he wanted to kill her, but she was also aware that he would obey Han Jiao's orders without question or hesitation.

She was trapped in the situation and knew she had no option other than to play it out to the end. She risked a glance up at the man who was now walking toward their group as Quan spoke to his men quietly in Mandarin, warning them to stay alert. Mei continued to stare down at the pavement that was still wet and glistening from a small rain shower. The man stopped a few feet from them.

"Give the girl the combination to your safe, and she will give you our number. We go to your location; you go to ours. When we've got the disk, we will explain the code. And you get the cash," Quan said to the man, his tone full of cockiness. Mei knew he did not think this man to be any real danger to the group of Triad-trained killers they were surrounded by.

The man smiled slightly, appearing a bit nervous. "That's the deal," he said. He then looked down at Mei. "Let's hear it."

She finally looked up into his face. "It's a very long number. You'll want to write it down."

He grinned slightly again and pulled a fountain pen from his suit jacket's inside pocket. "Thank goodness I brought a pen, huh?" he said and then struck. It happened so quickly that Mei was unsure exactly what had just occurred. She watched as the man stabbed the pen's sharp tip into Tao's neck and then pulled a pistol from inside his jacket and shot the other four men before they even had a chance to discharge their weapons. Quan had pushed her to the side when the man first struck, and when she looked up, Quan was in a chokehold with a gun pointed at the back of his head. He gasped for breath and held on to the man's arm, trying to gain a hold to loosen the grip.

The man then looked at Mei. "Might want to close your eyes," he said without any emotion, showing no sign of the nervousness he had displayed a few minutes before.

Mei just stared at him, a plethora of emotions running through her. Her mouth was so dry, she was unable to speak.

He shrugged. "Have it your way," he said, and then sharply jerked Quan's head, snapping his neck and killing him instantly. He dropped the body unceremoniously. She jerked at the sound of bones crunching and could only stare dumbfounded at her father's limp body laying haphazardly on the damp pavement. She walked woodenly to the still-running Towncar and stared straight ahead as he pushed her into the front seat. At least he did not put her in the trunk. That was a good sign…

The man quickly got into the driver's seat and shut his door. He pushed a button on his cell phone and sat motionless as he listened to whatever was occurring on the other end of the line. "Come on, Luke," he muttered.

This got Mei's attention. "You're a friend of Luke's?" she asked excitedly. It looked as if Luke had not given up on her, after all.

He hesitated a moment. "Not as far as you're concerned," he replied strangely, causing a cold heaviness to settle in her stomach. She had hoped this meant it was all over, but apparently, she had been wrong.

xXx

"If you could live anywhere in the world, anywhere at all, where would it be?" Luke asked Tatum as they stared out at the ever-moving lights crossing the Brooklyn Bridge.

She thought in silence for a moment. "I don't know. I've never really thought about it."

"Well, think about it," he said, a trace of amusement in his voice.

She looked over at him. "What about you?"

"I asked you first."

Tatum gave him a sardonic look.

"Well," he started, "I'd like to live someplace less congested, I think. Somewhere where everyone isn't always in such a hurry…maybe a bit calmer. Anywhere but here, I guess."

She nodded. "I know what you mean. I grew up in Boston, went to school there, and started my career there. So, I've never really known 'less congested,' you know?"

He brushed his fingers down her jaw before threading them through her hair. "Yeah. My job usually kept me in busy areas or always on the move. Then I met Annie and thought I'd finally be able to settle down."

"Did you guys plan on having kids?" she asked softly, hating to cause him pain by bringing up the past, but curious of his previous life.

Luke shrugged. "Yeah, I guess… She was from a small family, didn't have any brothers or sisters, but I knew she had always wanted a large family. I hadn't even thought of having kids until I met her. Didn't think a guy like me would be the best father figure…"

She smiled at him softly. "I think you'd make a great father, Luke. And I'm sorry you were robbed of a future with Annie," she whispered, looking out the window at the twinkling lights, unable to meet his eyes.

He tightened his grip on her head, forcing her to look at him. "Tate, I'm sorry about what happened to Annie. I'd do anything to take it back, but I've come to realize over the last few days that no matter what I do, nothing will bring her back. I also know that she'd be pissed at me for living the way I have the last year. She'd want me to be happy."

"You deserve to be happy, Luke," she whispered, staring up into his eyes.

"So do you," he replied softly. "And I'm not gonna fuck up your life like I did Annie's."

Tatum felt her heart freeze in her chest. "W-What do you mean? You can't leave me again, Luke! Not again!"

He looked at her pale face. "Tate, I've put you in danger too many times just tonight. I'm a walking disaster."

"I don't care!" she cried out. "I love you, you son of a bitch!"

Luke shook his head. "You don't mean that. When this is over, I want you to take Mei, and get the hell out of town. Without me around, you two will be safe."

She pressed her lips together and slapped him across the face, shocking both of them. "Oh, my God! Luke, I'm sorry…"

He reached up and rubbed his jaw. Damn, that girl had a hell of a right hook on her! He grinned in spite of himself. "It's all right. I know I deserved it. I deserve a hell of a lot more for what I've put you through."

She shook her head and pulled his face to hers, pressing her lips against his hard. "Don't you dare leave me," she murmured against his mouth. "Don't you dare."

He gripped the back of her head and held her to him, unable to let her go, regardless of what his mind told him. "I can't risk it…"

"You're gonna have to. I'm not leaving you. I love you." She had shocked herself with her admission, but she knew it was true. She did love him. And she was not leaving him, regardless of what he said.

Luke sighed and rested his forehead against hers. "Tate…"

She gripped him tighter. "Don't… Just don't… We'll be fine," she said, trying to convince him.

"If anything happens to you, I won't be able to live with myself," he said, shaking his head. "I won't…"

Tatum looked into his eyes. "Nothing will happen. I know you; I trust you. You'll keep me safe… We'll get Mei, and then we'll all get out of town. Far away from here. We'll all get new names, if we need to. We'll start a new life together…the three of us."

He kissed the top of her head and inhaled her scent. Maybe she was right. Maybe they could get away from all of the death and destruction that the city held for them and start over together.

She pulled away from him. "Please! Promise me you won't bail on me."

Luke looked down at her and knew he would not be able to leave her, even if he had to. He only hoped that if worse came to worse he would be able to protect her as he should have Annie. Still, he hesitated.

She reached up and cupped his cheeks in her palms. "Luke…?"

He sighed. "You know I can't leave you. Not again. But on one condition," he said, looking at her sternly.

She nodded eagerly in acquiescence.

"Don't you even want to know what it is?" he asked with a grin.

She smiled back at him. "I don't care, so long as we're together."

Luke laughed loudly. It felt good to laugh. Even before Annie's death, he had never been one to find much humor in things, but Tatum entertained him in a way no one ever had before. He just truly enjoyed being with her. Most of the time, he enjoyed seeing what would come out of her mouth next.

"I'm glad I amuse you so much," she said, her voice dripping in sarcasm.

He tried to contain his laughter. "I'm sorry, babe. I truly am."

"Mmhmm. Now, what's that condition?"

Her reminder caused his laughter to die. "You have to promise me that if I tell you to do something, you'll do it."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Really? I never took you for the 'man-of-the-house-do-what-I-say' type."

He scowled at her. "That's not what I meant, and you know it. I'm only thinking of your safety. So, you have to promise me that if something happens and I tell you to run or hide, you'll do it, no questions asked."

"As long as you don't ask me to leave you."

Luke shook his head. "If I do, it'll only be for your own good. Promise me."

She looked at him for a moment before she nodded her head. "I promise." She would promise him the moon if she had his word he would not leave her. She just mentally crossed her fingers with her promise to leave if he ever told her to for her safety.

He pressed his lips to hers quickly, then again. He did not resist when Tatum wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled her body into his. They were a perfect fit together, and his mind immediately jumped to how well she would wrap around him in bed once this was all over. He grew hard instantly at the thought. It had been so long since he had… Luke tried to pull his mind from the gutter, but with Tatum's tongue in his mouth, it was a bit difficult.

She moaned into his mouth, her fingernails raking against his scalp. The sensation was enough to make him lose his tight control for a moment, and he groaned against her lips, his own quickly skimming across her jaw and down her throat. He wrapped his fingers in her hair and pulled her head back, exposing the smooth column of skin more. She was panting hard as he licked and sucked his way up to her ear.

Tatum was lost in a fog of lust and passion, and she quickly clambered over the console and straddled Luke in the driver's seat. She pressed herself down on his erection, and she moaned at the electricity they were generating. When Luke ran his palms up her sides to cup her breasts under her shirt, she about lost the last remaining shreds of her composure. Just when she was ready to fling her clothes off and consummate their relationship in the stolen Audi, Luke's cell phone rang, causing them both to jump.

"Fuck," he muttered, still panting. He looked at the display and answered the call. "The old place. Just you and me," he said and then disconnected.

"Who was that?" she asked, trying to bring her heart into a more normal rhythm.

"Alex."

She jumped back into her seat as if she had been electrocuted. "Oh," she answered lamely as she surreptitiously tried to stuff herself back into her bra. She glared at the grin Luke shot her. "What?" she snapped.

He shook his head, a wide smile plastered on his face. "Nothing," he replied, grunting as he tried to adjust himself. He thought that maybe he was losing his mind, but he felt like a teenage boy with his first crush. And the smile he saw on Tatum's face out of the corner of his eye made him smile even wider.

* * *

**End Notes: Well, what did you think? Hit that little review button right there and let me know!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Okay, okay… I know those of you reading this probably thought that I fell off the face of the Earth. I would like to say that I had Jason Statham tied up someplace, but it was nothing nearly as fun. We have been doing some remodeling on our house and my internet access has been spotty. But I do promise you I am still working on the story and will complete it!**

**Thank you for all of the kind reviews you have left me! Every time I read one, I just get warm fuzzies!**

**Oh, and I watched **_**Parker**_** for the first time the other day, and all I can say is once again, Jason did not disappoint me! He is just so much fun to watch! It's not Shakespeare, but it's exactly what I enjoy! I hope you all have gotten to see it and enjoyed it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to **_**Safe**_** except for my DVD copy and the digital copy on my phone. Tatum is a figment of my imagination, so technically she does belong to me, but the others I am just borrowing. Enjoy!**

* * *

Luke stood silently, his gun pointed at one of the mayor's Secret Service men. He had sent another man down the stairs with a message to get Tremello up to the office alone. He scoffed at how simple it had been to infiltrate the mayor's mansion. Several years ago, he had tried to tell Tremello that he needed to beef up his security and replace most of his protection detail, but he knew then it had fallen on deaf ears. Tremello was not the type of man who wanted anyone telling him what to do.

He smiled to himself grimly. At this moment, the mayor's stubbornness had come in handy. He suddenly heard Tremello coming toward his office.

"Why didn't he call me on my cell phone? I thought I told you to put all my calls through to the cell…" His voice trailed off as he looked over and saw Luke standing behind the man at the door.

"I always told you this place had lousy security standards," Luke said, his gun steadily pointing at the security man's head. He paused before pistol whipping the man on the back of the head, effectively knocking him out cold. He then pointed the gun at Tremello.

Tremello put his hands up. "Yeah, well, that's because nobody's been crazy enough to come in here and pull a stunt like this. You've got some balls, Luke."

"Yeah, amazing I can even walk," he replied in his own deadpan way. "The disk."

"What? You think I'm stupid enough to let a gang of Chinese walk up the front steps and collect it from me in my living room? It's in a safe…far away from here," Tremello said, trying to keep the cockiness in his voice but allowing his mask to slip a bit and show his fear. He inwardly cringed at the sound of his own voice shaking.

Luke kept the gun trained on him. He was not afraid to shoot the mayor of New York City if he had to. "I don't think you're stupid. Which is why I don't believe for a second you'd give away the only copy. I'm gonna meet Alex. First, you're gonna give me the disk, or I'll put bullets in places that won't kill you, but it'll make you spend the rest of your life wishing I had. Now," he directed, nodding his head toward Tremello's large desk.

The mayor hesitated for a moment then sighed. He walked over and opened the hidden panel that camouflaged his safe. He punched the code in and opened the door, pulling a CD out. He handed it toward Luke. "Satisfied?" he asked.

Luke continued to hold the gun on him. "I wanna make sure it's not ABBA's _Greatest Hits_."

Tremello sighed, sat down at his computer and ejected the empty CD-ROM tray. He inserted the disk and opened the menu on his screen. Files opened up, showing the names of multiple dignitaries and known terrorist organizations. Luke watched over his shoulder, the gun pointed directly at the back of Tremello's head. His expression did not change when he saw his own name on the screen, along with the names of those in Wolf's corrupt unit. "Alex will kill you, you know?" Tremello could not help but say. He just wished he could be there when his lover finally took out this royal pain in the ass.

"Yeah, probably," Luke said quietly, his thoughts immediately jumping to Tatum, who was waiting in the car. He then struck before the mayor could turn around and knocked him unconscious with the pistol butt. He quickly ejected the disk and placed it in its plastic cover, and then snuck out of the office and down the back steps. He dodged through a couple of people in the kitchen before nonchalantly walking out of the service entrance. He then jogged the half mile back to the car where he had left it parked.

xXx

Tatum scrolled through her iPhone, trying to read the work emails she had received since she had dashed out of the building earlier in the day. Or had it been the day before? She shook her head and rubbed at her eyes. They were tired and burned, and she wanted nothing more than to sink into a hot bath to soak for an hour before she crawled into her bed and slept until she could sleep no more.

But she could not do that, and she knew it. Not right then. She tried to focus on the email her secretary had sent right before the office closed.

_Parents of Lindsey Martin called. Need to talk to you ASAP. Please call as soon as you get back._

"Crap," she muttered. She was not ready to deal with the Martins yet. Yes, she had a cause of death, but she did not want to release it until she had all of Lindsey's toxicology reports back – which could take weeks. She needed to know how much cocaine the girl had ingested before she died. Had she snorted several lines, or had there been so many glass fragments lacing the coke that all it had taken was one hit before she had drowned in her own blood?

And then the police needed to investigate where the cocaine had come from. Had it been a fluke, or were there more bags of the lethal product out on the street? There were so many questions, and many were outside of her jurisdiction.

She typed out a reply as she did not know for sure when she would be back in the office.

_I will make preliminary call when I return. Thanks._

Tatum scrolled down to the next message, and her heart seemed to stop. This was from her boss.

_Dr. Kennedy,_

_It appears there has been another fatality related to the contaminated cocaine source. A nineteen year old male was brought in, and Dr. Anderson discovered his airways were covered with microscopic lacerations. He mentioned that this was similar to your case earlier today. It appears we might have an influx of these casualties. I am calling an emergency meeting for in the morning at 1000 in my office. Please bring your file on the Martin case._

_Dr. Cooper_

She suddenly felt sick to her stomach. It appeared as if they had a crazed or homicidal drug dealer on the loose in New York City who was selling laced blow to young individuals... And she had a ten a.m. meeting with her boss and colleagues… And she was sitting in a stolen car outside the mayor's mansion waiting for Luke to come back with the disk… And they still had to finish this insane mission and rescue Mei…

She pressed her fingertips to her temples, trying to ward off the headache she felt coming on. She glanced at the dashboard clock and saw it was six a.m. She and Luke had four hours to finish this. She suddenly felt nauseous and closed her eyes. She supposed she could call in with a migraine – maybe Dr. Cooper would postpone the meeting until the afternoon – but she knew she could not do that. Every minute of delay meant that some other unknowing person could be ingesting the poisonous concoction. And she could not just sit back and let someone die, knowing that she had information that might have prevented it. She straightened up and hastily tapped out a reply.

_Dr. Cooper,_

_A brief review does lead me to believe the cases are related. I found microscopic glass particles in my patient's airways, leading me to believe that there is a batch, or batches, of contaminated cocaine out on the streets of New York. Would it be prudent to notify the media of the potential of danger, so they may alert the public? I am aware that most drug users will not heed a warning such as this, but I feel it would be negligent on our part as physicians to remain silent, now that we have confirmation that another death has occurred. Please advise._

_Dr. Kennedy_

She sighed and hit the send button. She probably had just pissed her boss off by basically telling him how to do his job, but if she could save even one life, she was willing to take the ass-chewing that would be the result. She was deep in thought and did not hear Luke approach the car until he had opened the door and slid in next to her. She jumped. "Holy shit, you scared me to death," she said, her hand over her heart.

He grinned at her. "Sorry, babe. I figured you would have heard me."

She shook her head. "No, I was thinking."

"About what?"

"Work," she said with a groan. "I'd almost forgotten I had a job over the last few hours."

He started the car and pulled out onto the road. "Problems?"

"Just two dead kids and a possible whacko drug dealer out on the streets. I have to be at a meeting today at ten. Did you get the disk?"

Luke nodded. "Yeah, I got it. And I've got to meet Alex in half an hour. But we need to make a side stop first."

"For what?"

Luke hesitated. "I want to make sure you're safe."

She smiled at him. "If I'm with you, I'm safe."

"But I have to know you'll be okay during this meeting with Alex."

Tatum stiffened. "Don't you dare leave me somewhere again! If he's as dangerous as you say, then you can't go meet him alone."

Luke pulled off onto a dirt road that looked as if it had been carved out with ATVs. "I think I can handle him, but he plays dirty. It wouldn't phase him a bit to use you as some type of hostage, if it came to that. I need to be able to concentrate on him, knowing that you can protect yourself if the worst happens."

She remained silent as he stopped the car.

"Come on," he said to her, and she slid out, stretching muscles that had become stiff from sitting for so long.

"What?" she asked.

He pulled out his gun from the back of his waistband. "Have you ever shot one of these before?"

Tatum shook her head. Her brother had wanted her to carry a gun when she moved to New York City, but she had refused. She was not scared of guns, per se, but she had never felt the need to use one, either.

Luke pulled her close and put the gun in her hands. "Now, keep the safety on until you get ready to fire. And remember, if you fire it, you better mean it." He placed his hands over hers to steady her grip. He showed her how to sight the gun and warned her of the kickback.

After a few practice rounds, he stepped back and had her fire the gun alone. "Won't someone hear it?" she asked, looking around. They were outside the city limits, but it was early in the morning, and she knew the sound would carry.

Luke shrugged. "They might, but by the time anyone gets here to investigate, we'll be long gone. And if they see the car and get lucky enough to get the plate number, it will come back to Docheski, and no one would be surprised to hear a gunshot if he was around. Now concentrate, or you'll land on your ass in the mud."

She scowled at him and squinted, lining her target up. She was shooting at an old trailer that was completely rusted, and she felt excited as she saw rust fragments fly into the air when the bullet made contact.

"Not bad," Luke said. "Try it one more time."

She did, and she again hit her target. She looked over at him, a big grin plastered on her face.

Luke grinned back at her. At least if she knew how to handle a gun, he would feel more at ease facing Alex. He needed to know that if the situation deteriorated out of his control, she would be able to protect herself. "Good job, babe. We better get going."

Tatum nodded and handed the gun back to Luke after switching the safety back on. Luke popped the back hatch to ensure that Docheski was still breathing, and then they drove back toward the city. Tatum hoped this time, they would be able to finish it.


End file.
